


I Am the Storm

by AmaranthineRose



Series: Set the World on Fire [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky's Roaring Rampage of Revenge, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Canonical Character Death, Deaf Clint Barton, Developing Friendships, Female Friendships, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Marvel Cameos, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-14 17:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 72,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11787786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmaranthineRose/pseuds/AmaranthineRose
Summary: With the ashes of the Triskelion and SHIELD's legacy behind him, Steve Rogers finds himself in a brave new world with a brand new mission - find Bucky Barnes and save him from HYDRA and himself. He just so happens to find some new friends along the way – and that his world was not the only one shattered by previous events. Misery loves company, after all.Or, Steve tries to save Bucky, and others try to save him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SHIELD falls. Life continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read **I Need Somewhere to Begin** or **We're Going Down Swinging** , you might be confused by some of the references and relationships. This begins directly after the climax of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and goes into deep AU territory fairly quickly.
> 
> Title comes from Of Monsters and Men's Thousand Eyes. Updates will come every three days.

  **Part I: Stripped to the Bone**

* * *

In the hours after Project Insight fell, the Triskelion continued to burn, and people began digging survivors from the rubble into the ruins of a new world.

Sharon Carter was among those digging, though it was only after hours of it that she realized that nothing would be the same again. She paused in the movements she made, staring blankly at the still smoking ruins of the Triskelion, the fires still burning – the last remnants of the world she’d woken up to this morning.

The world’s strongest intelligence organization fell that morning. What was supposed to be the start of a new era in security turned into one of the most devastating tragedies. And Sharon was there. Sharon dimly remembered hearing once that no one thought they were in the middle of history when it happened. She never realized how true it was. She’d stuck to her morals, and she’d done what she could.

As her eyes flickered to the injured, a bit away in triage, she bitterly realized that it still didn’t feel like enough.

She’d escaped harm for the most part, other than a deep gash on her arm that she knew would scar. That was fitting at least. It would be a permanent reminder of her mistakes, of the legacy of the organization she’d devoted her professional life to – the legacy her great-aunt bled and nearly died for a thousand times.

And it was all a lie. A corrupt, broken lie.

But Sharon was a Carter. Sharon was a Carter, and Peggy and Colleen always told her that when she was knocked down, she got right back up. That was her personal legacy, the one passed down from Peggy to Colleen to her, and so Sharon took it as everything she had left.

Maybe it wasn’t enough. Maybe she was simply ignoring the trauma and the pain and the nightmare that was this morning, but she didn’t care. She needed something to hold onto, and she was going to hold onto those words, that whisper of a British accent in the back of her head.

_Stand back up and do what you must._

And that was exactly what she did. Sharon brushed dirt and blood from her hands and threw herself into finding survivors and focusing on anything other than what happened.

But taking a second to breathe wouldn’t be the end of the world.

She sank down onto a piece of rubble, facing the Triskelion and watching. It was easy to fall back into the long-set attitude of observing her surroundings, watching every detail and tick of the people around her. Dozens of thousand yard stares. Some tears. People desperately trying to get a hold of loved ones, coordinating relief efforts and clean-up attempts. It would take months for this to be completely cleared, maybe years.

Sharon wasn’t sure how the death toll would be. Evacuation drills were held monthly at the Triskelion thanks to Fury’s paranoia, and once the alarms sounded, agents and techs and everyone else would have made their way out. But others – Sharon included – had stayed behind to fight for Captain Rogers, for SHIELD, for their beliefs.

Sharon knew that far less of them would make it out alive. After that, it would be a question of who was HYDRA and who was SHIELD.

Other than calling Colleen to assure her she was alive and safe and that they needed to think about moving Peggy to a different nursing home, Sharon didn’t look at her phone. Some of her friends were dead. Others were HYDRA. She didn’t want to think about them now, not when there was so much more to do. She didn’t want to process everything just yet.

But when her phone vibrated and the name _Nat_ flashed across her screen, Sharon answered.

“Glad that you’re alive,” Sharon greeted simply, taking a deep breath. She stood from the rubble, tugging a hand through her messy hair.

“Takes more than a HYDRA coup to kill me,” Natasha replied, her tone far more conversational and causal than Sharon thought it should be after something like this. “Are you alone?”

Sharon glanced around. Medics were nearby; focusing on a man whose leg was bloody and nearly crushed. Government officials were running around trying to make sense of the chaos. DC police looked as though they wanted to be anywhere but there. She wasn’t alone. But thanks to the chaos, she could be alone. No one would notice a single blond woman on the phone. No one would think that she was talking to one of the woman who knew exactly how things had ended up this way.

“Give me a second.” Sharon moved carefully, following a stretcher and slipping behind a car, sitting on a miraculously untouched bench. She was almost glad to be alone other than Natasha in her ear. “I’m good. What’s going on?”

“I need you to come to the hospital. Rogers is alive.”

That surprised Sharon. The last she’d heard of Steve Rogers, he’d been giving an admittedly good speech to everyone in the Triskelion. It was difficult to comprehend that it’d only been a few hours ago. It was even more difficult to believe that he’d managed to survive this mess.

Then again, the man once survived seventy plus years in ice. He could probably survive a nuclear apocalypse.

“How bad is he?” Sharon asked.

“Bad. He’s in surgery now.” Her voice went lower as she said, “I need you to get to the hospital. HYDRA isn’t going to let this go, and I’m not in the mood to fight off a whole kill squad at once in a hospital. Backup would be nice. We’ve got people coming but they won’t get here for hours at least.”

And so, the last few weeks had come full circle, with her potentially playing bodyguard to Rogers yet again. Full circle was turning into a terrifyingly common theme in her recent life.

“You’re sure me being there is a good idea?” Sharon asked. “He was pissed when he found out about my real job.”

A snort of dark laughter slipped through the phone. “Well, he’s got a few gunshot wounds in his stomach and a knife wound to the shoulder, so he’s gonna get over it.” The tone in her voice very much suggested that Natasha would make damned sure Steve got over the whole neighbor situation.

Sharon only nodded, taking a deep breath before promising, “I’ll be there. Soon. Are you okay?”

Natasha’s reply was quick and firm. “I’m fine. See you soon. Don’t call this phone again, I’m smashing it.” There was a pause before saying, “I’m glad you’re alive. And not HYDRA.”

She hung up without a goodbye, and Sharon slipped her phone into her purse. She had a hospital to get to, and there were a few dozen government and armed forces officials between her and freedom.

Sharon smiled at the challenge.

* * *

 In a small loft apartment in Bedford-Stuyvesant, nineteen-year-old Kate Bishop was trying very hard not to completely freak out.

This morning started out great. Clint and Natasha were both still gone on their respective missions, so she had the loft to herself. She took a nice run. She grabbed breakfast and coffee to go at her favorite brunch place, and she’d had plans to binge watch something on Netflix and order pizza for lunch, and grab dinner while taking Lucky for a long walk that night.

And then she turned on the TV, and saw the news regarding the Triskelion.

Kate’s first reaction was disbelief. There was no way this was real. It had to be a few-days-late April Fool’s Day joke. A change to another new station proved that false. A Google proved no, this was actually happening. The Triskelion had fallen. HYDRA was alive.

The second reaction, the one she still felt with every bone in her body, was acute horror for the people she knew involved. Clint and Natasha were SHIELD. Natasha was in DC. Clint was undercover with an arms dealer, god knew where. She didn’t know where they were, if they were safe.

And now their organization was burning to the ground, and Kate was just trying to pick up the pieces.

“Answer the fucking phone, Barton,” the brunette muttered, already pacing around the floor. A one-eyed dog, lounging on a pizza-shaped dog bed, watched her every movement, tail wagging when she passed.

Kate’s dark eyes turned back to the television, to the coverage of the fall of SHIELD. “You are so not allowed to drop off the face of the Earth, Barton!” she repeated to herself, glancing towards Lucky when the dog whined and plopped down on the sofa.

“The death toll has yet to be determined, though some are reporting up to a hundred people have died. These reports are unconfirmed as of yet, as is the fate of Captain Steven Rogers, better known as Captain America…” The reporter on television was almost too calm, but Kate didn’t want to turn off the TV. Not if Natasha or Clint’s faces showed up.

Clint was SHIELD. Natasha was SHIELD. She couldn’t get a hold of either of them, and she was about to freak the hell out. Because they might be HYDRA, and Kate had no idea how to take that. There was no way that they could be HYDRA. Right?

“They’re not HYDRA,” Kate muttered, shaking her head before redialing Clint’s number when it went to voicemail yet again. “If they were HYDRA, I would technically be HYDRA, and I’m totally not HYDRA.”

Even if she’d never officially joined SHIELD. That wasn’t the point.

When that call went to voicemail yet again, Kate groaned in frustration, slamming a fist into the couch, half startling Lucky. Kate tossed the phone on the coffee table, rubbing her temples before continuing to pace.

When Clint found her, he’d offered to train her. SHIELD never came up, only her potentially becoming an Avenger someday. She was just SHIELD by associated, put on their payroll as a consultant more than anything else. She wasn’t an official part of it.

But now, Kate was beyond glad that she hadn’t officially signed that paperwork, even if she didn’t know where they were. Not being completely SHIELD meant she was safe, and being safe meant she could try and find them. They had to be somewhere. Clint and Natasha had to be safe. They were strong and they were the best people Kate knew, and if anyone could survive this, they could.

“There’s always a way out. There’s always something you can do, you just have to figure it out…” Kate muttered, taking another deep breath before reaching out for her phone. Maybe it was time to call Stark or even her sister, figure out the next move.

Kate nearly screamed out loud when her phone vibrated on the coffee table, her hand only inches from it.

She nearly tripped over the rug as she lunged for it, staring at the unknown number. An unknown number calling on the day that her mentor’s organization fell? Yeah. Not a coincidence. She didn’t believe in coincidences on a normal day, let alone like this.

 Kate didn’t take the chance, answering the phone and putting it to her ear.

“Clint!?” she demanded, managing to keep the crack out of her voice. “Clint, are you okay?!”

To her absolute relief, it was indeed Clint’s voice on the end. What he said was anything but reassuring. “Kate, I don’t have much time, I’ve been made, and I’m not gonna make it long-“

His voice was shaky, harsh, and quick. There was something wrong. There was something so wrong, and Kate knew that he was in trouble. Clint was in trouble. And if she wasn’t wrong, there was a hitch to his voice that suggested he was in serious pain.

“What are you talking about!?” the brunette interrupted, sinking to the couch, taking a deep breath to try and calm herself down. She dimly noticed her hand shaking, and made a conscious effort to stop it. She could not freak out right now. Not when Clint was in trouble.

“SHIELD’s gone. SHIELD is gone and I’m in a lot of trouble, and you’re gonna be if you don’t listen to me now, Kate.” Clint’s voice was sharper than she’d ever heard before. “Kate, tell me you’re listening.”

Kate tugged a hand through her hair before replying, “I’m listening.”

The words were a rush, marked with a determination to warn her as much as possible. “There’s a bag under my bed. You get that bag, you get Lucky in the black car in the alley behind the building, and you run. The keys are in the bag. Get to DC. Nat will call you soon, on the burner phone in the bag. Smash your phone, do not bring it. Get out of New York, Kate, HYDRA is gonna show up any-“

The phone went dead, and Kate’s stomach dropped.

“Clint?” she demanded, her voice somehow steady. Horror turned to a forced calm as she repeated, her tone sharp, “Clint!? Clint!”

There was no answer.

Kate dropped the phone, staring at it as if it’d bit her. Her head was spinning. Clint was in trouble. Natasha was in DC. HYDRA was coming, possibly for her. She had to get out of there.

Kate moved quickly, heading into the bedroom that was usually Clint’s. The bag in question was under the bed, and she pulled it out quickly, pulling the zipper open within a second to take a look at what was inside. Her jaw dropped as she pulled it out – passports, one for her, Natasha, and Clint, each with different names. Naomi Rodney, Chase Brenner, Kelsey Brenner. Several bound rolls of cash. A gun. A compact bow. Clint had a bag ready to go on the run.

Of course he fucking did, he was Clint. And of course he’d put down the same last name for the two of them. He was such a sentimentalist even when he’d deny it to his last breath. She was also quietly glad she was over twenty-one on the fake passport and ID.

Kate pulled the bag over her shoulder, hurrying back to the living room and grabbing what she could, including Lucky’s leash. She remembered what he said, that HYDRA would be there soon. She didn’t have time to pack up the apartment completely. She paused when she saw her phone, setting her bag down and finding a hammer in the toolbox kept underneath the sink.

She didn’t hesitate to break it into pieces. Sure, she’d loved that phone, but she loved living more. And they would be able to track her through that phone. The burner phone was a heavy weight in her pocket, and she used that weight as a balance.

She had a way forward. She could figure out the rest as she drove down to DC.

“C’mon, Lucky,” Kate said, hooking the leash to the mutt’s collar. “We need to get to DC.”

* * *

 

In the woods outside DC, the door of a small cabin was pulled off its hinges. A man stumbled in, soaked from river water and dirt and mud, his right arm held uselessly at his side. His mind was far more of a mess than his body at that point anyway.

Physical injuries could be ignored. The pounding in his head, the ghosts of voices, could not be. Everything was falling apart. The Winter Soldier didn’t know which was up was, and he didn’t know where to start figuring it out.

Mission protocols dictated that after a failure on this level, he was to report to the nearest safe house, find the highest ranking of HYDRA he could. This was the nearest safe house, but from the cobwebs in the corners, there was a chance it’d been long forgotten. HYDRA was strong, but not nearly as strong as it’d been decades ago. And so much of their strength would have been wasted on this failure of a day.

There was every chance that any immediate superior he had was dead by now. Dead or imprisoned or in hiding. They may have forgotten him in the chaos. There were so many questions and no answers, but this was the first time in decades that he cared about answers.

Maybe they’d forget about him. Maybe they would assume their soldier dead at the bottom of Potomac. He doubted he would be that lucky, but the chaos would be a cover. To make an escape, you create a distraction. This was a distraction. He could escape. He could find the truth.

He braced himself against the counter, finding a rag and pushing it between his teeth. He took a deep breath, counted silently in his head, and moved his arm sharply, pressing it hard and forcing it to relax until his shoulder popped back into place. The pain of it made him cry out, and he shuddered, breathing heavily as he pushed the pain away, ignoring every bit of it.

Pain was nothing. A motivator, a tool. And he would not be held back from it.

_Order only comes through pain._

A familiar voice echoing through his head, one that always preceded pain and suffering and even the Chair.

His metal fish lashed out, slamming into the wooden cabinet under the sink. Splinters flew everywhere, and he flinched as one caught his face. He sat on the ground before spitting out the rug, shuddering slightly before forcing himself to his feet.

He didn’t want to forget. He could remember for the first time in a while. HYDRA might forget about him, but he would not forget. He would remember. And he could remember what the man on the bridge said.

_Your name is James Buchan Barnes. You’re my friend._

_Bucky?_

He had to figure out who he was. If he was Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. The Fist of HYDRA. A weapon. A man. He didn’t know. He didn’t know if it mattered, in the grand scheme of life and HYDRA.

But for the first time in decades, something mattered to him. And that was enough.

* * *

It was almost pathetically easy for Sharon to escape the containment area. Chaos always was a wonderful distraction, and an incident on this level was a perfect cover for Sharon to disappear from a crowd and get to where she needed to go.

She did take a few minutes to slip to a shopping complex on the way. She had her debit card, and enough in her accounts to buy a pair of leggings, sneakers, and a t-shirt. The clothes she’d been wearing at the Triskelion were left in the trash can outside of a nearby bistro she made a second pit stop on between the shopping center and the hospital. Being in clean clothes, the ability to pull her hair into a ponytail, gave her at least some feeling of cleanliness.

A bag of sandwiches and soups from the bistro nearby in hand, Sharon left to the waiting room she’d been directed to by a receptionist, pausing when she saw that it wasn’t empty. Granted, she knew that Rogers was a popular man, but for there to be people waiting already was a surprise.

The first person in it was someone she didn’t recognize, a black man dressed in sweats who looked like he’d been awake for days. There was a bone-deep tiredness on his face, his palm against his chin as he rested his eyes, though his breathing suggested that he was very much awake. When she pushed the door open, his eyes opened, a wary look crossing his face as he saw her.

The second man she did recognize, though Sharon was supposed to be attending his funeral in two days. Nick Fury himself sat in the chair, sunglasses covering his eyes and a baseball cap on his head, and he looked up as if he was annoyed at her for being late for a meeting.

“About time you showed up,” Fury complained, standing up and looking her over. “Get caught in traffic?”

Nick Fury was alive. She fucking knew it.

“Surprised?” Fury asked her, one brow raising behind his sunglasses. An amused smirk crossed the corner of his face, underlining the exhausted circles under his visible eye. “Everyone else was.”

“The last few days have been insane enough that the Red Skull could walk through the doors and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be surprised,” Sharon admitted, closing the door to the waiting room behind her. “And honestly, I thought you died way too easily.”

Fury only smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow at the food. “You always were a competent agent.” He gestured towards the first man, whose face lit up upon noticing the food. “Wilson, this is Sharon Carter. Carter, this is Sam Wilson. He was the one in the skies.”

“I was wondering who that was.” Sharon set the bags on the table before offering her hand. Wilson didn’t hesitate before reaching out and shaking her hand firmly.

“Nice to meet you. Wish it wasn’t in a hospital waiting room,” Sam said simply. “You’re the backup? And please tell me that this food is for us.”

Sharon only nodded, gesturing at the food. “Help yourself. Thought we might all be a bit hungry after today.”

“You’re my new favorite person,” Sam replied, pulling out a bread bowl and sighing deeply at the smell of it, sitting carefully on a chair facing the coffee table. Sharon joined in the chair across from him, Fury sitting in the almost middle of them.

“So was it Hill getting intel from me, or you?” Sharon asked, glancing over towards Fury.

Sam paused, raising an eyebrow before demanding, “You were helping on the inside?”

Sharon glanced back, one brow raised. “Who do you think told Nat that Steve was declared a fugitive?” It’d been her way of fighting back when that feeling in her gut screamed that something was wrong the second that Sitwell put her on the manhunt for Captain America.

It was simple from there to be Maria Hill’s eyes and ears. No one expected a Carter to do anything but her duty. They really should have expected a Carter to do the right thing. And that a Carter would have faith in Captain America.

“And who found the path that the vans would take to an isolated location to make sure you three disappeared,” Fury pointed out simply, gesturing back over at Sharon before taking a sandwich for himself. Sharon took the salad she’d sprinkled liberally with cheese for herself.

“Thanks for that then.” Sam nodded back at her. “We would’ve been dead in a ditch without Hill saving us there.”

Sharon shook her head. “No need to thank me. Just did what I had to do.” Even if she didn’t feel like it’d been enough. “Hill’s good?”

“Dealing with the US government. Doc’s got some friends here at the hospital so the heads here are trying to keep them off us until they’re out of surgery,” Fury mentioned, shaking his head. “It’s a shit show, so I’m calling in every favor that I’ve got left.”

They were silent for a few minutes, the only sounds the occasional cough from someone eating, the sounds of bites of food. Sharon realized halfway through the salad that she would kill for a burger from the place near her house. If she survived the next few days, she promised that she would get at least three and bring them back. She deserved a week to try and process before trying to figure out what to do from here.

Sharon lost track of time, but was broken out of her thoughts by the man across from her. Fury gestured at her arm. “That your only injury?”

He might deny it under torture, under pain of death, but a very deep part of Nick Fury cared about his agents. Peggy recruited him years ago, and he’d kept an eye on her since there. A part of Sharon buckled at the fact that someone was pointing out that scar, but she knew that it wasn’t against her.

Sharon only nodded. “Rumlow was HYDRA. Didn’t like it when I stood up for a tech who refused to set up the launch.” She shook her head. “Didn’t look close enough, he had a knife.”

“Rumlow?” Sam looked back at her, a surprisingly dark look on his face. “If it helps, he’s currently under a lot of rubble at the Triskelion. Fought him while the place was coming down, he wasn’t fast enough.”

Sharon paused, trying to ignore the surge of satisfaction she felt. She failed. “The idea of him rotting underneath a lot of rubble does make getting this scar a lot more satisfying. No kill like overkill, after all.”

One more HYDRA agent dead made things easier for them all. Especially when it was Rumlow.

“Do you really think HYDRA is going to come for Rogers?” Sharon asked Fury, her voice lowering slightly. Sam glanced towards the former SHIELD director, setting the spoon down on the coffee table. “This took a lot out of them, Nick, they can’t hide anymore-“

“Rogers saved today. Rogers has been the biggest pain in HYDRA’s ass since the day of the Red Skull,” Fury interrupted, raising an eyebrow back over at her. “He’s a threat to them. And he’s out for the count now. They want him dead, and in surgery is the best place to do that.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted as a scream came out from the hallway.

Sharon moved to her feet in an instant, the gun from her purse in her hand, safety already off, finger at the trigger. Fury was the same, his good eyes narrowed dangerously and he prepared for whatever might come. Sam moved to his feet as well, eyes wide when he realized exactly what was going on, who might have some back to this hospital – and who their target was.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sam muttered.

The lights went off a second later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Sharon fight. Sam recovers. Steve awakens.

A second scream followed moments after the first. A gunshot was on its tail, along with the telltale sound of a body hitting the floor.

“Shit,” Sam repeated.

When he’d opened his door to Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers only a day or two ago, Sam hadn’t expected to be pulled into something that was clearly above anything he’d ever dealt with. Going against a government organization, discovering its deep-set corruption, discovering a long-dead war hero was being used as a brainwashed assassin, and putting the wings back on for the first time in nearly four years was the exact last thing he expected.

That being said, Sam knew that this was no time for regrets.                                                         

Next to him, Sharon pulled a knife from her purse, tossing it towards Sam. He caught it easily, from the shadows from the emergency lights casting a red glare. He held it tightly, shooting her a grateful look. At least he wasn’t completely unarmed here.

“If you need the gun, I can use the knife,” Sharon pointed out.

Sam shook his head. “No, this is good.” Granted, he knew a bit about knife work, but if all else failed, stabbing and hoping for the best would work.

“And I’ve got two guns anyway,” Fury pointed out before handing one over to Sam. They were all keeping their voices down out of fear of whoever lurked in the hall hearing them before they were ready.

“Where’s Romanoff?” Sharon demanded as she kicked the coffee table onto its side.

“Getting a hold of those we can trust, and probably trying to track down Barton,” Fury replied bluntly. He moved to the door, nodding simply at Sharon before throwing it open.

A gunshot went through the now open door, and Sam dove for cover, managing to get behind a couch. Sharon shot back, taking her own cover carefully behind the overturned coffee table. Fury was taking on his own, managing to take down one man in black tactical gear surprisingly well, considering that his arm was still wrapped up.

Another man moved past Fury and the operative he was fighting, and Sharon took him, slamming a knee into his side as he tried to grab at her hair. Sam moved in an instant, tackling the operative and sending the hardest punch he could manage into his face. He felt something give way in his hand, and swore in pain before scrambling back up to his feet, grunting when yet another operative tackled him in return, a knife slicing out and cutting his shoulder.

A gunshot went out, and the agent fighting Sam went down hard, blood splashing from his chest and spraying Sam’s face. Sharon stood above, her brown eyes narrowed as she nodded at Sam, moving back to aim and fire at the one shooting Fury.

“Did you have to shoot him?” Sam asked, groaning as he stood up. “We coulda gotten something out of him.”

“He was about to stab you in the throat or strangle you, I did what I had to,” Sharon said bluntly.

Almost annoyed, Fury looked down at Sam. “This is a kill or be killed fight, Wilson,” he pointed out bluntly. “And trust me, they’d all very willingly kill you.”

He’d been in kill or be killed fights before. He’d been in one earlier that day. But to go back to war after spending years at peace was a jarring feeling for Sam. Especially when they were in a fucking hospital of all places, where Steve was somewhere across the hospital, in danger of his own.

“How many do you think there are?” Sharon asked Fury, firing against into the hallway.

“Doubt there’s more than a dozen. Probably the remnants of the STRIKE team.” Fury’s eyes narrowed before saying, “I’ve got enough bullets for them left.”

“Oh, me too. It’ll be fun.”

Sam remained on the floor, steadying his breath carefully. A small object bounced near him, and Sam’s eyes widened. “Grenade!” he shouted, grabbing it and tossing it back out into the hallway. “Sharon, move!”

Sharon did so, scrambling out of the way and managing to get out of the blast zone by the time that it blew up. The blast knocked the HYDRA agent into the wall, half caving it in. He was unconscious before he hit the ground, and Sharon moved back to her feet, firing a shot into his side to keep him down. Sharon shook her head, looking back at Fury. “They’re gonna be heading to where Rogers is.”

Fury only nodded simply. “You two get there, I’m going to call and find out where the hell our other backup is.” He handed Sam the gun in his hands and pulled another one out from the back of his belt. “Stay alive, Wilson, Carter.”

“Wait, what other backup?” Sam demanded. Fury was already leaving, his footsteps nearly silent on the ground. “Does he ever give straight answers?” he wondered out loud, glancing to Sharon.

Sharon snorted. “Never,” she replied, nodding for him to follow her. “You know what operating theater Rogers is in?”

“Suite Six. Same floor, other side of the building,” Sam answered.

Sharon glanced around, moving carefully to her knees to check the pulse of a body on the floor. Sam’s stomach nearly dropped when he realized that it was a nurse, one who’d checked in on him and Fury, gave them updates. HYDRA didn’t care about exposure anymore. They didn’t care about the innocent people in the way.

All they cared about was making sure that Steve died in that operating theater.

“You ready for this?” Sharon asked when she pulled her hand away from the nurse. The look on her face told Sam all he needed to know about whether there was a pulse.

Sam shrugged. “The day’s been long enough, fighting in a hospital isn’t gonna change that,” he replied.

Sharon only snorted in amusement, moving to a wall and nodding before checking out. “Haven’t you ever wanted to fight in one?”

“No,” Sam said. “Have you?”

“Antique shop is the top of my list in where I want to have a fire fight, but a hospital will have to do for now. And the antique shop has to be hand to hand, no guns.”

Maybe it was exhausted. Maybe it was genuine amusement. Whatever it was, Sam laughed, shaking his head. “You’re weird, you know that?” he asked.

Sharon smirked back at him, fire in her brown eyes. “It’d be boring otherwise.”

Sam glanced ahead, diving for cover again when another tactical agent fired at them. Sharon flipped over an abandoned gurney, using it for cover in between shots. Sam aimed as well, managing to take the operative down with a few carefully placed shots when he was distracted by Sharon. Sharon jumped over her gurney, kicking the gun away before slamming her foot into his head, knocking him out cold. She put the gun into her belt, glancing over.

“Just because I’m willing to kill today doesn’t mean I want to,” she replied simply.

Sam only nodded. “Think there’s been enough death and destruction today.”

“Always is. And it’s easier to get intel out of a living prisoner than a body in a morgue.”

It only took a few minutes to get through the hallways of the hospital towards where the operating theater was. Sam was surprised they didn’t run into more agents. He wasn’t surprised when they passed multiple bodies – nurses, doctors, a few orderlies. HYDRA was making damned sure that Steve died today, but Sam and Sharon were determined to get there first. He was not going to lose a friend today. They’d stopped Project Insight; they could find a way to save Steve before HYDRA got to him.

Sharon grabbed Sam’s arm when they reached the hallway outside of the operating theater. He nodded at her, showing her understood the need for caution, and poked his head out, glancing down at the situation down the hall, trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

There were only four agents in the hallway, three men and one woman. The three men were trying to break down the door, which hadn’t budged. There was a quick moment of relief, but only a quick one. Steve might be still alive in there, but they were far from out of the woods with this new HYDRA attack.

“They must have barricaded it from the inside,” Sharon whispered, sighing in relief at the thought. “That means they’re still alive in there.”

They weren’t too late to save Steve and the people inside that operating theater. It was the first of the victories today that didn’t feel bittersweet to Sam. “Think we can pick off all four of them?”

“I don’t… oh, shit. That’s Rollins,” Sharon realized, staring at the largest man of the four, his black tac gear tight and nasty gashes on his face. “I thought he was dead in the Triskelion…”

Sam scowled. “Apparently he survived it.” He was already learning that HYDRA had the survival skill of a cockroach.

He didn’t recognize the other two men or the woman. She was clearly the leader from the way she stood back, her eyes critical as she watched the three men try to break down the barricaded door. A knife spun in her hand, playfully and with complete skill, and a shot gun rested across her back within easy access. There was undeniable edge to the woman, and something flickered down Sam’s spine. His instincts were screaming that she was dangerous.

Oh, this was going to be great. If this redhead was anything like the other redhead that recently came into his life, he and Sharon had an awful fight on their hands. “Is she with SHIELD? STRIKE?”

Sharon shook her head. “Never seen her before in my life,” she admitted. “I’ve got a feeling that she’s going to be a problem.”

A gunshot rang out, and Sharon dove for cover across the hall. The redhead had a gun out, a smirk on her face as she looked. “Oh, goody, heroes,” she deadpanned, shaking her head. Her words were colored with an Australian accent. “Waters, Rollins, get the door open, Nicholson and I will handle these two.”

Sharon glanced towards Sam. Anyone else he might get into a gunfight with, there would be at least a moment of panic and surprised, maybe even fear. The smirk on Sharon’s face showed anything but as she nodded at Sam. Sam couldn’t help but smile back before simply before aiming and firing.

His first shot was lucky, hitting the agent helping Rollins force the door open in the neck. He fell instantly, his hands at his neck as he choked, trying to stop the blood flow. Sam knew it would be fatal. He couldn’t lose that much blood and survive. He’d seen enough injuries like that back overseas.

Rollins looked almost irritated before pulling his gun and aiming towards Sam, firing another shot. Sam pulled his body back around the wall, using it as cover and protection. Sharon took aim towards Rollins for a few moments, forcing him to pull away from the barricaded door and take cover against something, or else risk being shot just as Waters was moments before.

This was a gunfight on the level of the bridge not so long ago, though he admittedly hadn’t used a gun during those fights. He could feel his knife against his hip where he’d put it for safe keeping. By the time that Waters on the floor stopped moving, there were continuous shots fired towards them, fast enough that neither he nor Sharon could risk sticking their own out for fear of being shot.

“Any ideas, super spy?” Sam called over, wincing as he heard another gunshot hit right near him.

Sharon grit her teeth as she reloaded, glancing back towards Sam. “We need to take one more down,” she said. “We might have a chance if –“

A cry of pain came nearby. For a moment, Sam was terrified that it was Sharon, before he saw the look of confusion on her face and realized it came from the HYDRA agents. He risked sticking his head out, firing another shot to cover his ass, when he saw the third man – Nicholson, if he remembered the name right – go down with a shot to his back. He didn’t move when he hit the ground.

Down the hall, hidden behind a nurse’s station, Sam saw a flash of straight red hair and grinned. “Think we’ve got our own redhead in action,” Sam reported.

A genuine, open grin crossed Sharon’s face. “She’s always been good about showing up at the best possible moment.” She glanced towards Rollins and the unknown redhead, and her eyes narrowed. Sam could practically see the gears turning in her mind as she faced Sam.

“Cover me,” Sharon warned, dropping her gun before bolting forward, half leaping, half launching herself over one of the rolling beds in the hall. Her feet slammed hard into Rollins, knocking the gun from his hand.

“Shit!” Sam growled, moving forward and tossing another rolling bed to the ground, using that for cover as he tried to give at least some cover. The redheaded HYDRA agent split her attention between Sam and Natasha, pulling a second gun out from her belt and aiming it at Sam.

Sharon slammed her knee into Rollins’ stomach, trying to grab the knife from his belt. Rollins grabbed her arm, pulling it sharply. Instead of fighting, Sharon moved with the rough pull, flipping herself and kicking off the wall, forcing her and Rollins to the ground. Rollins’ arm went around her throat, and Sharon didn’t hesitate, grabbing the knife from his belt and slamming it into his thigh.

Rollins couldn’t hold back the growl of pain, and Sharon moved back to her feet. She dodged a bullet from the redhead, grabbing onto the knife she’d stabbed into his thigh. Natasha fired another shot towards the redhead, and she dove again to cover farther away from Sharon. Sam fired another shot, managing to hit the wall near the redhead.

Rollins managed to get back to his feet, and he lunged with a vengeance, grabbing Sharon by the arms and slamming her back. Sharon grunted in pain as she was slammed hard into the glass window, shattering it. The knife fell with the glass, falling out of her reach. Shards fell down with her, and she groaned, struggling back to her feet as Rollins grabbed the gun he’d dropped earlier, aiming at Sharon’s head.

“Sharon!” Natasha warned, giving the blonde enough warning to look up and see the gun, brown eyes widening slightly, the knife too far out of reach to be helpful.

For a moment, Sam was sure there was no way out of it. Sharon was going to die. There was no way to avoid a shot to the head from that distance.

And then he heard a mechanical whirl and the window to the outside shattered loudly as a red-gold blur flew through it.

A blast of energy shot from that blur, hitting Rollins in the chest and sending him flying down the hall, past Sam. He didn’t move again, and Sam caught a glimpse of wide open eyes. Sharon scrambled to cover, grabbing Rollins’ dropped gun and sliding to cover. He took advantage of the redhead’s clear surprise to move down the hall, putting his body between the door of the operating theater and her. He grabbed the knife Sharon dropped on the way.

The redhead flipped around, eyes wild with rage. “Who the hell-“

“Oh, hi. That would be me.” Tony Stark stood in the hallway, his gauntlet already powered up, face mask lifted to reveal a determined and almost amused face. “Lady, I’ve blown up one evil redhead, I’m totally okay about upping it to two.”

The redhead’s eyes flickered to her enemies – to Sharon, on the ground but gun in hand, aimed for her head and ready to fire. To Sam, holding onto the knife and watching her warily, his body between her and the door to the operating theater, between her and Steve. To Tony Stark himself, Iron Man once more, determined and almost eager for a fight. And to Natasha Romanoff, green eyes dangerous, a gun in each hand, and a clear readiness to start a fight.

The redhead glared at them each in turn before smiling. “It doesn’t matter. Winning the battle doesn’t mean you win the war.” She pulled a grenade from her belt and slammed it down on the ground in the middle of them all.

The hallway filled with smoke almost instantly. Sam coughed, tugging his shirt up and covering his mouth and nose, keeping a hold of the knife and moving his back to the door. If she made one last attempt at Steve’s life, Sam would be right there, in the middle of the only way there. For a few minutes, there was dead silence other than

When the smoke cleared, the redhead was gone. Sam was still against the door of the operating theater. He let himself breathe for a few moments, feel the relief chug through his veins and the adrenaline slip away. Sam’s back rested against the wall, his body sliding down until he was sitting on the ground, shaking his head.

“Everyone alright?” Sharon demanded, watching everyone. She smirked as Tony came over, still in the Iron Man suit. “Didn’t know you were the backup, Tony.”

“Shar-Bear, I’m nobody’s backup.” Tony offered her his gauntleted hand, and she took it, groaning slightly as she pulled her shoulder back, wincing slightly. “Didn’t know you were the neighbor Steve mentioned.”

Sharon raised an eyebrow before glancing back at Tony, clearly surprised that Steve mentioned her before, though she didn’t say anything. “Nat?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the redhead. “Sam?”

Sam only nodded. “I’m good. Need to breathe,” he replied. This was turning into one hell of a day, and Sam honestly didn’t know if he could handle any more insanity on this level. He could not wait for when he could get some sleep.

“I’m good,” Natasha promised. She moved to the operating theater door, knocking on it and calling, “Stiles, it’s safe. They’re gone. It’s me, Nat.”

Sam moved to his feet, watching the door and Natasha carefully. There was silence for a few moments until a response finally came. “Prove it,” came the muffled female reply on the other side of the door. “Something only you would know.”

Natasha didn’t hesitate before replying, “You originally tried to set Laura up with Clint, but he blew off the date and Barney went instead. She got pregnant a month later.”

The sounds of a metal groaning came through the door, of something sliding out of the way. The door opened a moment later, revealing a pretty, dark-haired woman. “Anyone injured?” she asked, eyes flickering between all four of them, lowering a tightly gripped scalpel.

“Think my shoulder might be dislocated, but we can pop that back in later,” Sharon promised, wincing slightly again.

The doctor sighed before turning back around. “Trudeau, can you come in here, we need to reset a dislocated shoulder…”

“No need, Doctor.” Sam looked up sharply, shaking his head when Fury casually came down the hall, his attitude more of one who’d just stopped for copy than disappeared during a fight. “I’ve got Carter.”

Sharon rolled her eyes, giving a long-suffering sigh. “Make it quick.”

“Not the first time I’ve done this, Carter,” Fury assured her. He came up from behind Sharon, drawing a quick glare from the blonde. Fury was calm as he said, “One-“ and popped Sharon’s shoulder back into place. He rolled his eye when Sharon yelped and added, “You’re welcome, Carter.”

The blonde scowled, looking back at Fury with a baleful threat in her eyes. “Thanks,” she deadpanned, looking back to the others as she crossed her arms against her chest. Sharon frowned. “Where did you go?” she demanded of Fury.

“Went to find Romanoff.” Fury bent down next to Rollins’ prone body, examining him critically as he held fingers to his throat, trying to find a pulse. “Plus, I didn’t want anyone to see me. I want HYDRA to keep thinking I’m dead, Carter. You can’t prepare for something you don’t know is coming.”

The doctor shook her head. “I’m going to choose to ignore that awful first aide treatment, Director, and the fact that you are actually alive.”

“Not the Director anymore, Doctor Stiles. Just a private citizen.” Fury gestured towards the operating theater, raising an eyebrow over at her, looking around carefully. “They’re dead, so unless their leader decides to come back, he’s safe.”

“Army’s on its way here,” Natasha replied simply. “Colonel Talbot set his younger brother in charge of the hospital’s security, so we’ve got backup if HYDRA tries again.”

“Won’t matter if Rogers didn’t make it through surgery,” Sam pointed out simply, looking back at the doctor. “Did he?”

Doctor Stiles nodded immediately. “He survived surgery, yes. He’s still alive.”

There was open relief on a lot of faces at that statement. Sprinkles of relief even crossed Tony Stark’s face at the confirmation that Steve was still alive, that they hadn’t lost him that day. Maybe that was why this felt like war all over again. You took what victories you could, buried the dead behind you, and hoped it would be worth it on the other side.

“His condition’s good then?” Tony asked. Sam remembered reading that Stark was operated on months before. He probably remembered a lot of that language and terminology.

“And stable.” Her scrubs were bloody and her eyes were exhausted, but there was a soft but strong smile on her face, victory between her lips. “Honestly, with the way he was healing during surgery… he might just survive this.”

Maybe, just maybe, Sam mused, that was enough of a victory to make the last half hour okay.

As the others started to discuss their next move, as Fury started to leave to keep the secret of his survival quiet, the doctor moved over to Sam. “How many are dead?” she asked simply, eyes flickering back to him. “How many of my coworkers are dead?”

Sam swallowed. “Too many,” he admitted.

The doctor merely looked away. “That’s how it always is in war.”

And how true that was, especially today.

* * *

 

Hours later, the sun was setting and Sam was still in Steve’s hospital room, reading a book and letting Marvin Gaye play over his speakers.

To Sam’s complete relief, things calmed down after they’d fought Rollins and the still unknown redhead in front of the operating theater. Fury disappeared again, most likely heading to a safe house or somewhere no one could find him. Sharon remained for a few hours, helping to keep an eye on everything and even taking a watch shift in Steve’s room while Sam showered. Natasha was nowhere to be found, though he’d caught her grabbing Sharon’s phone from her purse, most likely trying to contact the Barton person he’d heard mentioned several times.

What he was surprised by was the fact that Tony went out and found Steve’s shield in the river. The only remark had been to “tell Capsicle not to lose that again, it’s expensive”. Less than an hour later, the nurse came in to tell Sam that Steve didn’t need to worry about the medical bills as they’d been pay for. Tony Stark had a heart deep-down underneath where the arc reactor once laid.

He didn’t know how he would sleep that night, but he had no plans to leave Steve alone in this hospital. Even if Steve’s life might not still be in danger, Sam wasn’t the type of person to leave a friend to wake up alone in the hospital.

And he had to make sure that Steve was going to listen to the Marvin Gaye album. Just because he was unconscious didn’t mean it didn’t count.

A gentle knock sounded at the door, and Sam glanced up to see the doctor from earlier. “Doctor Stiles, right?” Sam asked, recognizing her as the one who’d operated on Steve earlier, the one who’d taken the moment to ask how many of her coworkers were dead. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. No sign of evil fascist organizations right now,” the doctor replied, shooting Sam a reassuring smile. “I’m just here to check on him.”

The joke drew a dry smile to his face. Sam nodded, putting a bookmark to save his place and setting his book to the side. “It’s okay that I’m still here, right?” he asked. “I know that visiting hours are over at like 8…”

“If anyone gives you trouble, come and find me,” the doctor replied, pausing from her examinations of the monitors, sighing as she double checked and scribbled onto her clipboard. “This is a special case on a very weird day. You’re here with my permission.”

“I appreciate it, Doctor. Don’t think any of you all are ready to deal with him trying to escape from the hospital room when he wakes up.”

That got a crack of a smile from her. “I’ve heard he’s done it before, actually.” She turned back before saying, “You know, you’re not my patient. And honestly… I’ve heard Doctor Stiles enough today. Each time didn’t end well. My name is Mia. You can call me that.”

He smiled slightly at that. “Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m Sam.” He frowned slightly when he saw a man in a black suit he didn't recognize standing just outside the door, talking quietly to the army guards. "He with you?"

Mia rolled her eyes where she was moving to Steve's side, checking him over. "Courtesy of my mother finding out I nearly was killed in the operating theater by HYDRA," she explained. "She's with the CIA. Said that I was gonna suck it up and deal with having a bodyguard while I was working on Captain America."

"Can't say no to parents sometimes." Sam's experience growing up under Darlene Wilson was proof enough of that.

"Not even when you're over thirty, apparently."

Sam hesitated before looking back at her and saying, “I’ve got to ask… you mentioned about how too many people dying is always how war goes. You were overseas?”

“Caught that, huh?” Mia turned her attention back to the monitors, checking his pulse before saying, “I worked a free clinic in Sokovia for eighteen months when I finished medical school. There’s a brutal civil war going on there. Still going on, last I checked. I doubt it's going to end any time soon.”

Sam remembered the name Sokovia from the occasional news report. He’d seen enough war to imagine what it was like. “War isn’t a pretty thing. It’s not glorious. It’s hell.”

“Spoken like someone who served.” Mia glanced back at him. “Where were you?”

Sam nodded. “Afghanistan. A few years ago. Been a civilian since. Still feels odd.”

Mia shook her head before admitting, “I was a civilian overseas. Not a part of the army. A lot of people who don’t deserve it die in war. If I can save one of them, it’s a good day.”

“Today you saved a national icon.”

She smirked. “I’ll be sure to write about it in my diary.”

Sam snorted. “Just… thank you from me. He’s a friend. A good one. And the guy deserves to live a bit longer.”

Mia only nodded. “Sometimes I can. Others I can’t.” She gestured at Steve. “Today, I was lucky and able to help while I could. Today, I managed to give a few people who deserve it another chance. That’s all I can do sometimes. That’s why I became a doctor.”

Sam looked back at her, meeting her brown eyes. “I became a soldier to help people. Think the world needs more people who just want to help.”

“The world doesn’t always know what to do with them. With us. People who genuinely want to help others. We can’t want to help. We must want something else. The power. The prestige. There’s no way that we can genuinely want to help others with no reward.” She laughed softly before saying, "Dad says Mom's the same way. Hence why she never wants to go into politics."

Sam chuckled sadly. “Ain’t that the truth.” He looked back at her. “Natasha said she wanted you for this surgery. She said that in the ambulance ride here. Why you?”

Mia didn’t reply before pulling out a phone from her pocket, scrolling slightly before tossing it back over. Sam caught it, and raised an eyebrow in surprise when he saw a picture of Mia with a pretty girl with dark hair, a few years older than her, in what was clearly a wedding dress, a dark haired toddler on her hip. They looked enough alike that they were clearly sisters. Next to him were two similar-looking men, and Natasha on the other side of the younger man.

“Clint Barton,” Sam realized, looking back over. He’d never seen Clint Barton’s face before, but there were only so many people that Natasha would allow to put an arm around her waist.

“My sister is married to his brother,” Mia explained. She looked back over at Rogers, readjusting a pillow carefully. “I don’t work with SHIELD. I’m a consultant, if you want to be call me something. Concierge doctor might be a good word for it, too. I get called in on the occasional surgery or project for some very important people. Technically, I don’t have an actual hospital. Just places I have privileges and friends who call me in when I’m needed.”

“And Nat trusts you enough to save the life of one of her friends,” Sam finished.

“You know, for the longest time I thought Nat disliked me. I love the fact that I was wrong.” Mia picked up the clipboard again, sighing before scribbling one last thing. “I should go. I have a few more people to check up on.”

“I didn’t mean to distract you,” Sam apologized. He half wished she wasn’t leaving. It was almost nice to talk to someone who genuinely wanted to help others. There was a reason he’d gravitated towards Steve when they’d met a few days ago, while he was talking to Mia now.

Her genuineness, that honest desire to help others reminded him of Riley in the best way possible.

“I needed that distraction though. It was nice to meet you, Sam,” Mia mentioned, pausing in the doorway of the hospital room. She shot him a weak smile. “I hope we’ll see each other again in better circumstances.” She walked out of the room a moment later, but Sam saw her look back at him and smile.

Maybe he’d been away from the dating game too long, because it was only then he realized completely that he’d missed a huge shot. Sam gave a long-suffering sigh. “Should have given her my number,” he muttered. Maybe next time.

It was then he noticed a little card on the chair he’d been sitting on, with a number drawn carefully on it in surprisingly neat handwriting with a small name next to it – _Mia_. Sam grinned. Maybe he still had it. Just a little bit.

Less than an hour later, a noise came from the groggy voice of the man at his side, broken by a lack of use and damage to the throat, but there and strong and filled with the promise of recovery. “On your left.”

Sam smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Doctor Mia Stiles** \- Shiri Appleby
> 
> More information on Mia can be found in Chapter 2: Iowa of We're Going Down Swinging, though the most important things to know are that she is the younger sister of Laura Stiles-Barton, Clint's sister-in-law, and the daughter of CIA deputy director Marion James as seen in The Punisher. The next chapter will be posted in three days, as normal.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve says a goodbye. Sam and Steve team up with a new ally to find information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this tomorrow, but then I realized I was too excited for it and decided to post it a day early. The next update will be Saturday. This is one of my favorite chapters.

It was two days after he woke up that Steve was discharged from the hospital.

He nearly broke out a few hours. He’d been unconscious too long. He’d wasted too much time. Being in surgery, recovering in the hospital – it was all a waste of time that Steve frankly didn’t have much of. He didn’t have a lot of time until the trail was too cold to be used, and he would be damned before he let that happen.

Bucky was alive. HYDRA was alive. Everything he knew was gone once again, but there was something out there he had to do. He had to find Bucky.

There was almost a relief to having a mission, to having something to do. He had a mission again, a goal. And this goal, Steve knew, was one of the most important ones he’d ever had. He couldn’t screw it up. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to fail Bucky again the way he had on that train. This time, he was going to save him.

The first hurdle was getting out of the damned hospital.

Sam teamed up with the pretty doctor who’d operated on him, Doctor Stiles, and they managed to keep him there for two days until they were positive that there was no lasting damage. It was only then that Doctor Stiles reluctantly allowed Steve to leave. Even that was after Sam promised that he wasn’t leaving Steve any time soon.

They had a starting place to look for clues. There was a bank in downtown DC. Sam was very disappointed to learn that it was two blocks away from his favorite diner, but relieved it wasn’t his bank. But it was where they’d held Bucky when he was in cryo in the States, and it was where they would have kept him before and after the attempted assassination on Fury, where they would have prepped him for the fights on the helicarriers. They had their first base. From there, they could figure out the rest.

They went to the graveyard to pay their final respects to Fury, to see him one more time. Natasha showed up as well, giving a folder of intel that he knew was going to be incredibly useful and kissing his cheek goodbye.

Steve Rogers, for the first time in a long while, knew what his next move was going to be.

But first, he needed to say a goodbye.

After the graveyard, Steve lead the way to the nursing home Peggy lived in. Sam went along, pointing out that if Steve was about to go on an insane mission to bring back Bucky, he wasn’t going to let him go it alone. Steve spent most of the metro ride wondering how the hell he’d been lucky enough to literally run past Sam a few days ago.

The nursing home wasn’t that crowded. DC was quiet over the last few days, almost as if the city itself was trying to reconcile its new reality. The nursing home was no different.

“Are you going to tell her about what happened?” Sam asked when they signed in as visitors.

Steve didn’t reply, because he didn’t have an answer. Anything he told Peggy, she would likely forget within a few hours. And having the conversation about SHIELD’s fall and corruption over and over again would devastate her. She would blame herself for that loss, for that corruption, hate herself for not seeing it grow in the first place.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, crossing his arms against his chest as he waited for the nurse to be done checking Sam’s idea. “I don’t know if she’d remember it if I told her. She watches the news, she might have seen it-“

“Her television was taken out yesterday,” the nurse at the front desk mentioned. “I don’t think she’s seen anything about what’s happened.”

Steve looked up sharply. “What?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “Why was it taken out?”

The nurse shot him a look and sighed. “Her family is moving her out today. Her daughter’s on her way here. They don’t think it’s safe in DC for her anymore, not after what happened at the Triskelion. She’s bringing her mother to her own home, taking a leave of absence from her school.”

Steve’s stomach flipped. How close had he come to not being able to say goodbye? He was lucky this once. But he could understand why her family might want her out of there. Colleen, her daughter, was a smart woman. Steve met her several times. He knew she wouldn’t take her out of DC unless she was completely sure that it was the best option, that it was the only way to keep Peggy safe.

He dimly realized this might be the very last time he ever saw Peggy, but didn’t quite comprehend it just yet.

“You go ahead,” Sam said when they reached the hallway. “I’ll stay out here and wait. Try and find coffee or something, we’re both gonna need it.”

Steve nodded, not trusting his voice. He knew that Sam was just trying to give him privacy, but he appreciated him pretending that it was only to go and find coffee. While Sam walked away, Steve stood still, staring at the slightly jarred open door. He didn’t know how this was going to go. When he’d talked to Peggy a few days ago, all was normal. Today, nothing was the same. The entire world had changed in a matter of a week. How the hell was he supposed to hide this from her?

He took a deep breath, knocking gently before opening the door. The room was empty other than its owner. Peggy was asleep in her bed, and Steve swallowed, disappointed. A part of him wondered if this was for the better, if Peggy could believe that seeing him might be a dream. She’d moved on in the years, married Colleen’s father and built a life for herself. She deserved that more than anyone. He’d disrupted lot by coming back to life.

“Hey, Peggy,” Steve said, his voice soft as he moved to sit by the chair. “Sorry it took me a few days to come back. It’s… it’s been a bit insane. A lot happened. I was in the hospital. You know. The normal things I go through.”

He took a deep breath, looking back down at her, at the rise and fall of her chest, of every wrinkle of her face. He missed her. With a jolt, he realized this goodbye really would be the last one. And she wasn’t awake for it. Maybe that was better. Maybe this goodbye was more for him, saying goodbye to one part of his past to find the rest of it.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “For everything. For this being our goodbye. Because you deserved so much more.” He tugged a hand through his hair, the words starting to stumble from his throat before he could stop them, a cascade of emotions and pain he hadn’t acknowledged up until now. “Bucky’s alive, Peggy. He’s alive and in trouble and HYDRA had him for years and… and I’ve got to find him. I’ve got to find him, Peggy. He needs help.”

His voice shook for a moment, and Steve rubbed his temples, feeling a familiar heat behind his eyes. He blinked that heat away, struggling not to think about it. He could not break down. There was too much riding on him to break down. Steve had no time to break down. He could not break down.

“I’m sorry,” Steve repeated, not entirely sure what he was apologizing for. “I love you. I always will. But I can’t come back here. Not until I know that Bucky’s safe, that he’s gonna be okay. I’ve got a chance to do better, and… and I’ve got to take it, Peg. I’m so sorry. I’m just… I’m glad you had your own life. That you could move on after me. You deserved that. So much. You deserved a life, and you deserved better than this. I’m so sorry.”

The door opened, and Kate the neighbor walked in.

Both froze. Steve stared at her in open shock, and watched as she closed the door carefully behind her. He moved to his feet instantly, eyes flickering back down to Peggy. She was still asleep, and he was relieved at that. He could feel the anger in his chest rising, threatening to suffocate him, replaced by the desperate determination that he was not going to let anyone, especially her, hurt Peggy.

Sure, Natasha said that she was nice, that he should call her. But with Peggy right behind him, Steve knew damned well that he was not thinking incredibly clearly. He couldn’t even remember what Natasha said his name was.

“Look, Rogers, I can explain-“ she started, her tone hard as she set her purse on the table next to the door.

Steve didn’t let her finish. He moved instantly, grabbing onto both of her arms and pressing her hard against the wall. He was furious. How dare she be here, how dare she follow him even here. Had she followed him here before? God, they really had just followed him around like it was nothing. There wasn’t even a guaranteed that she wasn’t HYDRA.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he spat.

He felt the metal of a gun against his stomach a moment later, but he remained firm, glaring down at the blonde. She lied to him. She was an agent, and she was very possibly a corrupted agent. And she was now holding a gun to him.

“Let go of me, now,” she warned. She clicked off the safety. “You just got out of the hospital, Rogers, I don’t want to put you back in there.”

He didn’t let go, merely spitting, “I am not about to let you hurt her, not when her family is getting her out of here. She has nothing to do with any of this.”

“You really should get off your high horse, Rogers, it might get tiring up there.”

It was then that the door opened, and Sam poked his head in. “Hey, sorry couldn’t find coffee-“ His eyes widened when he saw her pushed against the wall, holding a gun to Steve’s stomach, and he looked between the two.

“Whoa, whoa,” Sam said, his voice sharp as he moved carefully, moving between the two. “How about we all calm down here? Steve, she’s a friend. She’s one of the people who fought in the hospital when HYDRA attacked.” He turned to the blonde. “And a gun, really? He just got out of the hospital.”

“When someone pushes me against a wall, I’m gonna get a weapon out, Wilson,” she replied, though Steve heard nothing that hinted at an apology in her voice.

Steve looked back over at her. “You were at the hospital?” he asked, surprised. He let her go a moment later, but the suspicion and anger played in his blue eyes, the grit of his teeth against each other. “Why?”

“Nat asked me. I try to help my friends when I can.” Her eyes flickered back to Peggy asleep in her bed. “And my family.”

It took a moment for Steve to realize what, exactly, she was saying. He looked sharply back over at her, and then back to Peggy. There were no obvious physical similarities, considering that Sharon’s hair was blond and Peggy’s was dark brown eyes before, but then he looked back at the blonde, at his neighbor, at the woman he knew as Kate, and saw her eyes.

Brown eyes. Peggy had them. Peggy’s nephew by her brother had them. They were the Carter brown eyes.

“You’re her family,” Steve said, his voice almost dead.

“Great-aunt,” she replied simply. “She’s my great aunt. My grandfather was her older brother, I was a late in life surprise for my parents. Her daughter adopted me when my parents died.”

Steve shook his head as he tried to keep calming down. Maybe he had overreacted. Hell, he definitely had, attacking Peggy’s relative like that because he thought she might be a threat. Maybe attacking her wasn’t the best idea, especially considering how emotional he already was. But dammit, after what he’d gone through the last few days, could anyone blame Steve for assuming the worst when he saw someone who lied to him days earlier in the same room as someone who couldn’t defend herself on the same level as she once had.

“What are you doing here anyway?” the blonde asked simply, raising an eyebrow at her.

Steve swallowed, the purpose of his visit bringing a lump to his throat. “Saying goodbye,” he replied. The fact that he’d managed to keep his voice steady was a miracle in and of itself.

Her face softened for an instant, and her brown eyes flickered back to Peggy in the bed. Maybe even if they’d fought before, Steve realized, they had the same goal. To make sure that Peggy was safe when she couldn’t protect herself anymore. The blond man looked back towards Peggy, watching her sleep. He was almost glad that she wouldn’t be able to see what SHIELD had become.

Sam watched him, dark eyes narrowed slightly as he shook his head, sighing softly before asking, “You doing alright?”

The blonde seemed to realize that the question was directed at her, and merely shrugged. “Good as I can be when the organization I devoted my adult life to goes up in flames,” she replied bluntly. “I’ve got a funeral to go to today; I’m just trying to help Colleen get everything out quickly.”

Steve knew that there were two funerals today, one for a nurse in the Triskelion and one for a tech who’d been in the launch center. The death toll wasn’t as high as it might have been, but even one life lost to HYDRA was too many.

“I’m sorry.” The apology stumbled from Steve’s throat before he realized it was coming. “I’m sorry for taking SHIELD down. It was the only option. I didn’t want people to get hurt because of it.”

He knew there wasn’t another option. All of it had to go. And he hid those doubts he might have in front of Fury, because he knew that Fury would have wanted to save at least some part of SHIELD. People devoted their lives to that cause. Fury, Natasha, Clint. And the Carter in front of him seemed to be another one.

“Don’t you dare apologize for that.”

Steve’s head snapped towards her at the response, openly surprised. Sam, who’d taken the seat in the corner, merely raised an eyebrow, looking back towards her.

She was standing tall, looking over at him with clear anger dancing in her eyes, but there was also a solemnity that he didn’t expect. “You had no choice, Rogers. There was an infection in SHIELD and it was taking over. There wasn’t time or room to be careful and try and figure out who was who. Hundreds of thousands of people would have died if you made the wrong choice. If you said it had to go… it had to go. We listened to you in the control room for a reason.”

“People died in that control room.” Steve’s voice was at his normal volume, but there was something quiet about it, a regret he’d been trying so hard to hide.

“And any of us would have done it again.” She tugged a hand through her hair, taking another deep breath before tugging her phone out of her pocket, swiping at it absently, as if it was less about checking it and more giving her hands something to do. “Colleen’s almost here. If you want to see her, I know she’d want to see you…”

A sudden realization crossed over Steve, the remembrance of a bit of information he didn’t have. It was a bit of information that might actually be important. “What’s your real name?”

The blonde frowned, looking back at him. “What?”

Steve swallowed as he looked back at her, trying to think. He was glad it came back quickly. “Your… your name is Sharon, right? Nat mentioned it.”

“Yeah.” The mention of Natasha softened her face slightly, and he watched a tenseness leave her shoulders. Steve watched her as she confirmed, “My name is Sharon. Sharon Carter.”

Steve studied her carefully. Somehow, Sharon fit her better than Kate.

There was silence for a few moments, Sam and Sharon both staring at their phones and trying to give Steve as much privacy as possible as he just watched Peggy. Sharon probably didn’t want to leave her great-aunt alone at all, even with Rogers, and Sam didn’t trust the two of them alone in the same room. Finding Sharon with a gun to Steve’s stomach and Steve holding her against the wall was more than enough to convince him of that

He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to justify this goodbye. He owed Sharon nothing. “I’m going away for a while,” he explained, his hands in his pockets. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’ll be back. If I’ll see her again.”

Hell, he didn’t know if he would make it back from this quest alive. But how different was that from every mission he’d ever been on?

Sharon’s answer honestly shocked him. “You’re going after him.” It wasn’t a question. She looked from Sam, who stared intently down at his phone, and over to Steve, who only watched her back. “You’re going after Barnes.”

“How do you know?” Steve asked. He was hoping to keep Bucky’s identity as quiet as possible. The last thing he wanted was for someone to realize who he was and use that against him.

“Natasha.”

Of course Natasha told her. Of course she had.

“She didn’t have to do that,” Steve said, his voice low as he crossed his arms against his chest. “Why would she-“

“Because I’m good at what I do. That means surveillance. Face traces. Observation, all of that fun stuff. She asked me to find something. I couldn’t find anything. He’s a ghost.”

And if someone who was trained in all of that had no luck, Steve knew it’d nearly impossible. That was a stab to his chest that he didn’t need. “She shouldn’t have told you. It’ll only drag you into this mess.”

“I’m glad that she did. Everything makes a bit more sense now.” Sharon raised an eyebrow before adding, “And you really think people won’t figure it out? He’s a national icon, Steve. He’s got a medal named after him. People see his picture and they’ll know.”

“That’s gonna make our job a lot harder,” Sam pointed out, ever the voice of reason. “Especially if an international manhunt starts.”

“You’ll have time. They’re gonna focus on the higher levels of corruption first,” Sharon speculated. Her hands on her hips, she sighed deeply. “Senator Stern of Pennsylvania was proven to be a HYDRA member. He’s been arrested. There was a HYDRA member in the Senate, they’re going to focus on him first. The Winter Soldier is an urban legend. People don’t like finding out urban legends are true.”

Steve looked back over at her, shooting her a grateful look at what he honestly thought might be good news. “Which means we have a chance to find him before they really start digging into those files.”

“He could be in a lot of different places by now,” Sharon pointed out.

“I know. But I can’t give up on him.”

Sharon only sighed, looking back down at her aunt and taking her hand gently, squeezing it once. Steve opened his mouth to add something else, but he was cut off by Sam’s voice, by the sound of alarm that told him something went wrong.

"Rogers."

Sam’s voice, the warning in his tone, caused him to look over. He was holding his phone, staring down at the screen before he silently handed it over to him. Steve looked down at it, seeing the headline of an article: _Breaking News: Downtown DC bank set on fire following massive terrorist attacks in DC_.

The headline was not what caught his attention. It was the picture below it that caught his attention - a fire, red trucks with long hoses, and the tall stone walls of what he recognized as a bank, as stated in the headline. A bank he recognized.

A bank. A bank that had a bunker underneath capable of surviving a bomb. A bunker that Bucky was stored in only weeks ago. The bank from the files, the bank he'd been planning to check on later that day, was on fire.

And Steve knew instantly who'd set that fire.

"I need to go," he said, his voice rough.

“No. You all need to go.”

Steve looked sharply over at the sound of a familiar voice, at the lilt of a British accent. Sharon gapped where she sat next to the bed, eyes wide as she looked down at the woman who meant so much to her, and so much to Steve.

Peggy was, in fact, awake, looking back over at Steve before reaching for her grand niece’s hand, squeezing it. “You go with them,” she said simply. “He’s not a spy. And the only way you find a spy is to use a spy. And you, my dear, are very good at being a spy.”

Sharon looked torn, taking a deep breath before nodding. “Let me call Colleen,” she said simply, kissing Peggy’s forehead before ducking out of the room.

Peggy turned her attention to Steve. There was exhaustion in her eyes, and Steve knew that she knew. She’d most likely heard everything. She’d mentioned it before, pretending to be asleep to hear what she wanted to hear. You could put the spy into a nursing home, but could never take away her skills or habits.

“I heard it all,” she said simply. “Go and kick them in the teeth for infecting what I built, and find Barnes.”

Steve couldn’t help the soft smile. “Thank you,” he said simply. “And I’m sorry.”

Peggy shook her head, taking another deep breath as she rested her head back. “Sometimes the best we can do is to start over, Steve,” she reminded him. “You move on, you find Barnes, and then… then you build a life of your own here, and live it in spite of them.” She looked at Sam. “Make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”

“Tall order,” Sam snorted, giving the super soldier a look.

“Oh, I know that very well.” Peggy’s eyes closed as she said, “But everyone in this room is used to those, aren’t they? And the impossible is so much fun to beat.” Her eyes flickered to Steve, the goodbye flashing in them, and Steve felt the heat behind him as he nodded. "You've beat the impossible before. And you can do that now."

Steve hoped she was right, because he knew that this was going to be the nearest to impossible he’d ever been before.

* * *

 

 Sharon’s car was in the parking lot, and Steve didn’t say a word as he moved inside. He watched out the window intently, pulling his sunglasses on carefully to hide at least some of his face. He did the same with a baseball cap. Sharon called Colleen to explain the situation, and she was luckily minutes away – and Peggy taught her daughter enough about shooting a gun that both Steve and Sharon felt comfortable enough leaving her to watch Peggy.

Even then, Steve was convinced that Peggy would consider it an amazing day if she got a chance to shoot a gun.

“I don’t know who told you two that sunglasses and hats are a perfectly acceptable disguise, but they’re really, really not,” Sharon deadpanned as she looked at Steve in the passenger’s seat and Sam in the back.

“They’re all we have on a last minute run,” Steve snapped, glaring across at her in the driver’s seat.

“What, you mean every movie and television show lied to me?” Sam asked. That at least drew a snort from Sharon, and Steve raised an eyebrow back at Sam.

They parked about three blocks from the blockade keeping people from the remnants of the now out fire. Sharon stopped them before heading out, grabbing a notepad, pen, and paper from the glove compartment, along with surprisingly well-made fake press credentials.

“I had a mission a few months back, I kept the press credentials. Thought it might come in handy someday,” Sharon explained, tugging her hair back into a messy bun that admittedly helped with the reporter disguise. As did the fake glasses she pulled out from the compartment between the seats.

Sam frowned. “Are all spies hoarders, or is it just a you thing?” he wondered. “Because if you pull out a wig from the trunk, I’m leaving.”

Sharon smirked back at him, brown eyes sparkling. “Maybe a mix of both. My wigs are under my bed at home.”

“Didn’t you just complain about us wearing glasses as a disguise?” Steve frowned, raising an eyebrow over at her.

“Except that it actually works for a journalist disguise. You two are just wearing them to avoid attention, and those two add more attention.” She put on the glasses, leaving them by the jeep and allowing them to be seen as just nosy observers watching the fire trucks.

Steve watched the chaos around him, his hands curled into fists. He slipped them back into his pockets, tapping his foot impatiently. He lost sight of Sharon’s head of blond hair in the crowd, and his blue eyes flickered back to study the smoke piling into the air.

It wasn’t surprising that the media attention here was insane. The mess at the Triskelion was a major terrorist attack on US soil, caused by a group thought dead for decades. Of course it was going to get tons of media attention. And of course a fire only a few days after, at a well-known bank in downtown DC, was going to get just as much, joined by speculation that they were connected.

Steve knew that the thing connecting them was Bucky. There was no way this was a coincidence.

“Breathe,” Sam warned. He leaned casually against Sharon’s car, arms crossed against his chest. As Steve watched the smoke and the fire, Sam watched him, a silent guardian angel.

“I can’t,” Steve replied, shaking his head as he looked back over at her. “We’re wasting time here, Sam.”

“We can’t find him without intel, Steve. We can’t find him unless we know where he’s going. This is important,” Sam pointed out. He sighed before saying, “I know you want to save him, Steve, I do. But if we want to, we’ve got to be smart about it.”

Steve grit his teeth because he knew damned well that Sam was right. They couldn’t run after Bucky with no idea what they were doing. They needed to be smart about this if they wanted to do it right. They could not screw this up. They had to do everything in their power to protect the people around him.

If they screwed this up, screwed finding Bucky up, then people would die. Bucky might die. And Steve was damned tired of people dying.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, Steve still studying the chaos and the crowd on the dim hope that he might find Bucky there admiring his own handiwork, Sam watching him. There wasn’t an uncomfortable edge to the silence, only a silent worry that Steve tried hard to ignore. He still wasn’t used to people caring about him in this time. It was a different feeling, one he was struggling to adapt to.

“Steve, this isn’t going to be easy.”

Sam’s statement took him by surprise, and Steve turned over to him, half broken out of his searching vigil. “I know,” he said, his tone perhaps a bit sharper than it needed to be. Sam didn’t flinch, and Steve readjusted his tone. Sam wasn’t trying to attack him on this.

He forced his gaze away within a few minutes, taking another deep breath. Steve realized then that there was no reason for Sam to be there. There was no reason for Sam to abandon his life in Steve’s quite possibly insane attempt to find Bucky. Sam’s entire life was in DC. Steve had no right to ask him to walk away and come and help him with this insane quest.

“You don’t have to come along with me on this,” Steve pointed out. He laughed softly before saying, “Hell, Sam, you didn’t know me a week ago. You can walk away from this. I wouldn’t blame you.”

Sam merely raised an eyebrow over at him before saying, “Yeah, I didn’t know you a week ago. But I know a good person when I meet them. I know that you’re trying to do the right thing. And I want to go into this. Alright? You’re my friend. Doesn’t matter if you’ve been my friend for a week. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re my friend and I’m helping you on this.”

Steve stopped, merely looking back over at him, his face softening. “Thank you,” he said simply. “Thank you, Sam. For everything.”

Sam only nodded, managing to shoot him a tired half-smile before looking back to the crowd. Steve was relieved that he wasn’t watching him anymore. Any more people watching him and he was convinced that he would begin to break down sooner rather than later. Sam and Steve fell back into silence, studying the area around them and trying to find anything that might potentially be a threat to either of them.

“Just saying though,” Sam pointed out after a moment. “Peggy just told you to find something else in your life too. Barnes is important. I know that. But your life is, too.”

Steve didn’t reply, because that was a bag of issues he did not want to get into. Not right now, at least. He could worry about his own life and wellbeing after they found Barnes.

Sharon returned in those minutes of silence, looking exhausted but victorious. “Got a firefighter to talk to me on the condition that he was anonymous. Considering I’m not a reporter, that’s easy,” Sharon explained, handing Steve the small notebook she’d written notes in.

Steve took it, shooting Sharon a grateful look as he read through the quick but neat notes.

“Anyone dead?” Sam asked.

There was almost a moment of hesitation before Sharon nodded, her brown eyes conspicuously avoiding Steve’s blue. “They’ve pulled two bodies so far. They found this weird machine down there; they think it might have been an electrical fire, but one firefighter I talked to said that it smelled like gasoline in there. That machine in particular was set on fire.”

Steve’s stomach flipped. “There was a machine that could wipe his memories. It was in his files, it’s how they kept him compliant and calm after missions. It was huge.”

Sharon looked faintly sick at the mention of it. “They have shit like that?”

“A few of them,” Steve confirmed. “They used it on him. Used him for a guinea pig.”

“Who were the bodies?” Sam asked.

“No positive identification yet, but if that’s a HYDRA bunker underneath it, then it’s pretty easy to believe that it’s HYDRA agents burned to a crisp in the back of the coroner’s van. Banks have been closed since the Triskelion. Even then? Those bodies didn’t die from the fire.” Sharon hesitated. “Their necks were snapped. Very obviously snapped.”

Silence stretched between them for a few minutes. Steve looked back sharply towards the coroner’s van, tugging a hand through his hair as he set Sharon’s notebook on the front of the car. Sharon’s back was to the chaos, a tired look on her face as she exchanged a look with a grim-looking Sam.

“It’s him,” Sam said simply. “It’s Barnes.”

“We don’t know that,” Steve refuted, except that they did. This was a HYDRA bunker, used to store him and wipe him and prep him for the next mission. No one else would have a reason to go after it.

Sam sighed before looking back at Steve. “You know what this means, Steve.”

Steve didn’t reply. He knew what it meant. He knew what this fire meant. He knew what the two broken bodies in the coroner’s van meant. He knew what all of this meant, what the rebellious act of pulling him from the Potomac had started. He knew that Bucky Barnes was alive in the Winter Soldier. And he knew what was happening now.

Sharon answered for him, and Steve realized that this might have turned from a mission to save Bucky from HYDRA into saving him from himself.

“Barnes has gone rogue. He’s going after HYDRA.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha meets with Kate. A soldier finds out some pertinent information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having an awful day at work, so I'm posting this now instead of tomorrow.

Three days after telling off a Senatorial committee, Natasha Romanoff cut her hair to above her shoulders, emptied her storage locker, and drove to West Virginia.

She abandoned her car in the parking lot of a shopping center, away from any security cameras. After a quick stop inside to grab a few essentials, she started the rest of the trek to the motel. The walk gave her at least some time to think. She’d been avoiding that for the last few days.

Over a decade ago, when Natasha stared down an arrow aimed at her eye, she’d been in the midst of a rebellion of one. She was using the skills the Room gave her for her own ends, acting as a mercenary and an assassin and whatever else she chose to be. The act of choosing in and of itself was a rebellion against the Room.

And then an archer found her in an alleyway in Budapest and offered her another choice. The idea of at least a bit of security was seductive, but it’d been more than that promise that convinced Natasha Romanoff to take the offered hand.

It turned out to be one of the best choices she’d made in her life.

Her hand moved to the arrow necklace around her throat. Clint bought it for her, and she took it as a matter of faith – in her, in their relationship, in something permanent among the constant change of the last few years. The Room had no use for gods, and neither did Natasha. But she did have use of faith in people – a few in particular.

And now one of those few people was missing in action, and there was nothing she was better at than finding him and pulling him out of trouble.

At the very least, she had a lead. Really, when Clint decided to start mentoring the Central Park Archer, she thought he was insane. It wasn’t until Clint pointed out the cycle of adopting strays that she realized this was his way of grieving, in a way. As Coulson unofficially adopted Clint once upon a time, he now did the same to a teenage girl who didn’t know which way was up.

Natasha hadn’t expected herself to become fond of that teenage girl, but it’d happened. Though she would die long before she admitted to Kate that she’d been under S for Sestrenka in her phone.

The block near the motel had a few fast food restaurants, and one family-owned pizzeria a half a block away. Natasha didn’t realize her actions until she was in the pizzeria, ordering a pie to go and waiting at a table, her hood carefully over her head as she watched out the window.

HYDRA was in SHIELD. She’d spent another decade of her life fighting and killing for an evil regime. It figured.

A part of her feared that Clint might be on the other side. That he might be HYDRA. But then she realized how dumb that idea might be. Clint was as steadfast as Fury and Coulson. And anyone who was HYDRA would have been brought in by a mentor. And there was no way in any hell that Coulson had been a member of HYDRA while living.

Clint was alive. Clint was loyal. And Clint was in serious trouble, wherever the hell he was, and she was going to find him if it was the last thing she did.

She was broken out of her reverie when she heard the sound of the television in the corner of the pizza parlor. She glanced up at it, seeing the footage of the chaos of the Triskelion, people running around and trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Natasha still didn’t completely know what the hell was happening.

The pizza was ready a few minutes later, and she shot a winning smile at the man who brought it out. A smile that was normal, as if her world hadn’t been torn apart at the seams yet again. But it was the smile of a woman who knew how to rebuild, how to get back on her feet, and how to survive. She could do that.

Walking to the motel after that only took a few minutes, even with the multiple bags from the shopping center and the pizza centered carefully in her other arm. Kate sent her a text message earlier with a code she’d decrypted easily, letting her know what hotel room. She was impressed that Kate got a room on the second floor, farther away from the office but with a very good view of everything else. She learned more than Natasha assumed she had.

It was a simple knock – three, two, one, a silent beat between each set. The same knock she and Clint had used since their first meeting in Budapest over a decade ago. It was only two seconds after that last knock when she heard the chain unlock, the deadbolt click, and the door open.

A blur of fur nearly crashed into her, but Natasha managed to push ahead enough to force Lucky into the motel room. She dropped her bag on the ground as she bent down, her hands rubbing the sides. A high pitched whine filled her ears, drawing an almost involuntary smile across her face, a genuine one, a smile that few people had seen and lived to tell about it.

Hell, one of the few people who’d seen that smile was a dog.

“I missed you too, Lucky,” Natasha murmured, rubbing the one-eyed dog’s head gently. “I know, it’s been a long few days…”

Lucky’s tail went a mile a minute, knocking into the table near the door and threatening to knock it down. He sniffed at the pizza, whining at the scent. Natasha moved back up, scratching Lucky’s head. She reached into the bag of supplies she’d bought and dropped a fairly large bone onto the ground. Lucky pounced on it immediately, jumping onto the first bed of the two and gnawing away on it. Dogs were easy to please. She wished that she could just get a bone and everything would be alright with the world.

She turned her attention to the brunette now sitting at the table a few moments later, sighing in relief when she noticed no immediate injuries on her. Kate looked almost wary, an exhaustion on her face. She’d cut her hair as well, though hers remained longer than Natasha’s, and straighter than she’d ever seen it.

“Glad you’re alive,” she said. Kate nearly groaned when she saw the pizza. “I love you. So much. You’re the literal best.”

“You too, kid.” Natasha reached out to squeeze her shoulder. She set the pizza down on the small table, letting Kate go after it before she reached back and closed and locked the door.

“Tell me what happened,” Natasha said, slipping down on the other side of the table from Kate. She even reached out to grab a pizza, more than willing to have some greasy comfort food for the night. She was half desperate for something, anything.

Kate was nearly done with her first slice. She set the crust down as she looked back over at Natasha. “I was watching the news and trying to call his cell phone. He didn’t answer but then he called my phone from a burner. He told me to grab the bag under the bed and run. And that you would call me. Which. You know. You did.”

“But what else, Kate?” Natasha pushed. “Clint’s a smart man. He wouldn’t make a call unless he knew what was going on.”

Kate frowned. Her brown eyes flickered to the side as she tried to remember. “He said he’d been made.”

Which was not good. HYDRA probably kept close eyes on them all. She’d been working with STRIKE for over a year now, alongside Steve. Every member of STRIKE was HYDRA, though from what she’d seen, Rumlow and Rollins were highest in the hierarchy. Rumlow was assumed dead in the rubble of the Triskelion, and Tony had killed Rollins in the hospital.

With no need for shadows, HYDRA could openly attack those they considered threats. And as an Avenger, as a loyal SHIELD agent, and as a man, Clint was a threat to HYDRA. It only made sense to take him out.

“What does that mean, he’s been made?” Kate asked, frowning slightly. “He never talked to me about the spy lingo stuff, so I didn’t understand that part. Just that it probably isn’t good.”

“It’s not,” Natasha confirmed. She took a deep breath before explaining, “It means his cover was blown. He was undercover when this all went down. I don’t know where. I only heard from him a few times during it, but he wasn’t alone in it. It was going well until obviously it wasn’t.”

“Well, shit,” Kate muttered, scowling slightly as she took another slice of pizza. Her fingers tore a piece of cheese off the pizza and tossed it over to Lucky, the dog snapping out of the air happily.

Natasha glanced back over at her. “You said he called your phone from a burner? You didn’t recognize the number?”

Kate nodded in confirmation. “He called my cell, but I destroyed it before I left,” Kate replied, shaking her head before pulling the phone out. “I had that app that could record calls, and it had a backup on it. All I had to do was log back on the app on a different phone and I had it.”

Kate handed Natasha the phone, and the redhead put it to her ear. She knew that listening to this phone call was not going to be easy. Nothing about this situation would be easy. Nothing about finding Clint and saving him from whatever HYDRA might have done to him was going to be easy.

_“Kate, I don’t have much time, I’ve been made, and I’m not gonna make it long-“_

He wasn’t panicked. Clint was a lot of things, but he was not a man who panicked. He was methodical and calm and this was no different, even with the sharp tone to his voice. That was the only sign of urgency in his voice, the only hint that something was wrong and that he was struggling to figure out his next move.

There was almost a resignation in his voice, as if he knew he was going to be captured and accepted it. His priority after that would be making sure his loved ones would be safe. Clint’s brother would know what happened and how to protect his own immediate family. Clint’s priority would thus be Kate and Natasha.

A wet nose nudged at her hand, and Natasha reached down with her free hand to scratch behind Lucky’s ears. And of course, Clint would want to ensure Lucky’s safety. That should have gone without saying.

_“SHIELD’s gone. SHIELD is gone and I’m in a lot of trouble, and you’re gonna be if you don’t listen to me now, Kate.”_

He knew something. He knew that HYDRA would go after Kate. He knew that he was in trouble and that he’d been made. Something happened before this call, something that told Clint he needed to warn the person who would not know to automatically check her back.

Kate was smart enough to realize that she might be in danger after the SHIELD collapse and try and get in contact with them. The fact that she’d had the phone close at hand, was smart enough to answer the phone to that unknown number and realize that it would not be a coincidence, had quite possibly saved her life.

Clint knew that SHIELD was gone. He either had access to the internet at that point, or someone told him. She hadn’t managed to get a message to him when she was preparing for the takedown of Project Insight. She’d managed to send him a warning message on one of their old school networks, but it was a pain in the ass to check, and if Clint didn’t have time to check it, he wouldn’t be able to.

_“There’s a bag under my bed. You get that bag, you get Lucky in the black car in the alley behind the building, and you run. The keys are in the bag. Get to DC. Nat will call you soon, on the burner phone in the bag. Smash your phone, do not bring it. Get out of New York, Kate, HYDRA is gonna show up any-“_

He knew her well. He knew that she would come, knew that she would try and find Kate and Lucky when it was clear that he was in trouble. When she realized that Kate’s phone was going straight to voicemail, she realized it was dead or destroyed. And Kate was too much of a teenager to ever let her phone battery die out willingly. So the next move was trying the burner phone Clint bought new every few months and hid under the bed, a to-go back if he needed to run quickly.

The repetition of Kate’s name was significant too. He was getting her attention, making sure he kept her attention. He was trying to get her to take this seriously. Considering the grim look on Kate’s face and the fact that she wasn’t dead or in HYDRA custody, she clearly had.

She took some comfort in the fact that Clint made that call with the intention of making sure Kate was safe. And he’d succeeded in that. Kate was safe and okay and far away from HYDRA. She’d managed to escape.

Natasha pulled out the secure StarkPad that Tony gave her before she left the hospital. It had a secure internet connection on its own, which meant that she didn’t have to risk someone managing to get into it over the unsecured motel connection. It didn’t take that long to find records of Bedford-Stuyvesant and any recent criminal activities.

“What time did you leave New York?” Natasha asked when she found the report she knew would be there, on some gut, instinctual level.

“Maybe around four or five? I left like immediately after I got that call from Clint,” Kate replied, frowning when she heard the question. “Why?”

“Because an hour after you left New York, the apartment was broken into. Clint’s neighbor Frances called the police when she found the door smashed into pieces and the place broken apart.” Natasha saw Kate’s wide-eyed horror as she passed the tablet over to her so she could look.

“Fuck,” Kate swore, shaking her head before looking back over at Natasha. “Are we safe here?”

Ah, there was the birth of a spy’s paranoia. She would almost be proud if these last few days hadn’t been a complete shit show and she needed Kate to be her normal self and not a paranoid girl who was slowly evolving into a spy and an assassin and everything that she and Clint were.

“I covered my tracks, and no one is looking for you down here. No one would expect you to run to the middle of the shit show, and HYDRA is too busy to look for you.” She was confident of that at least, and she’d made sure her tracks were covered as she hurried over here to West Virginia.

Kate only nodded, relieved at the promise that they were safe at the moment. She pulled her legs to her chest, her arms resting around them as she looked back over at Lucky, happily chewing his bone without a care in the world. She was almost jealous of that dog right now, not having to worry about how the hell they were going to get through this.

“You can walk away now. This is above what Clint and I told you would happen.” Natasha watched Kate carefully. “We both have safehouses off the grid. And there’s the farmhouse in Iowa. Laura and Barney wouldn’t mind you being there.”

She had to know it was an option. Clint had promised to train her to be a hero, to be someone who could protect others. And she was doing that. Kate had come so far from the vigilante archer shooting petty criminals in Central Park. Natasha couldn’t demand she walk into a war that she wasn’t ready for. She and Clint could handle wars. She wasn’t sure Kate could yet.

“You have the car. You can take Lucky and get the hell out of here,” Natasha pressed on, watching Kate’s every micro-expression carefully for any sign that she might want to get out of there. “I can’t ask you to risk your life to find him. He would understand.”

Kate was silent. A single, perfectly-tweezed brow raised across at her, and gave an eye roll only a teenager could truly produce. “Yeah, right, I’m gonna walk away right now,” she muttered, sighing and pulling out a brand-new laptop from one of the shopping bags below. “We’re gonna find him. And I’m coming with you.”

Maybe, just maybe, Clint was right about Kate.

Natasha smiled. “Then let’s get to work, Kate.” 

* * *

 

He went to the Smithsonian.

For a few days, he wandered around DC. He saw no other members of HYDRA. No one came looking for him in the safe house. Maybe they all thought he was dead. He wasn’t completely convinced of that, but it was almost nice to have that feeling in his chest. It took him a few days to realize that feeling was hope.

But on this day, after noticing a picture of the man on the bridge on a poster in the tunnels underground, he realized that he knew where he had to go next.

It was common sense. There was a picture of the man on the bridge. There was text about an exhibit centering on Captain America. From there, all he had to do was get there and he would find out more about him. It was almost a pathetically easy mission, but the idea of having a mission at all was a comfort. And in a crowd, it would be easier to steal a wallet with money to buy food.

It was in the Smithsonian, in a busy part of town crowded with tourists. There were signs everywhere explaining how to get there, and that made it easy for him to find where the exhibit itself was located. The busyness of the complex was not a problem either. In fact, it was far more of a help than a hindrance. Crowds were easy to get lost in, especially crowds filled with people as loud as tourists.

Getting past security proved to be slightly more of a problem. His arm would set off any metal detector he got near. It proved to be far easier when it was an old man at the station, currently complaining about being on entrance duty after some suit was stolen on his night duty shift.

If he’d screwed up in his job, he’d been tortured. He didn’t tell the security guard that.

Instead, he followed the signs. His eyes were caught by the rockets around, the science and advancement and progress around him. Something wiggled in the back of his head, a familiar nagging of a memory he couldn’t place. Science. A flying rocket. A flying car, once upon a time. He could remember a flying car and it failing spectacularly.

He found the exhibit and the crowd. It was noon on a weekday, but he was slowly realizing that DC never seemed to sleep.

It was quiet. He explored, reading everything he could see, absorbing as much information as he could. There were uniforms on one side, on faceless mannequins except one, which said it was taken off exhibit for repairs. He dimly realized it might be repairs from the gunshots and stab wounds he’d doled out, considering he recognized the uniform as the one the man on the bridge wore on the helicarriers, far above DC.

There was a pretty woman talking on a TV, talking about prisoners of war and fronts and blockades. He recognized her, her accent, and the image of a red dress and redder lipstick, standing out in a dark and dusky bar, popped into his head.

And then he saw his own face.

It was across from the mannequins, the Howling Commandos. It was his face, with dates and text and it was him. That was his face, and that was the name that the man on the bridge – Steve – had called him.

Bucky Barnes. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. Sergeant James Barnes of the Howling Commandos, of Brooklyn, New York.

He read the text printed on the display at least twelve times. James Buchanan Barnes. It was his face. It was all what the man on the bridge said. Everything he said was true. Best friends since childhood. The only Howling Commando to give his life in combat. The only one who didn’t make it back other than Steve. He fell and died expect he wasn’t dead.

He wasn’t dead. James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t dead because he was James Buchanan Barnes.

He felt like he was going to throw up.                   

He had a name. The man on the bridge, the man on the helicarrier, the man who dropped his shield and greeted death like it was an old friend. His name was Steve Rogers. Steven Grant Rogers. Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America.

He reread it again. He had three younger siblings. Sisters, he remembered. Three younger sisters. Rebecca and Alice and Dorothy. He’d joked that Rebecca would marry Steve and they would be brothers already except Rebecca was in love with that Proctor boy who worked on the docks and married him weeks before he was shipped to the Pacific front.

He remembered all of that. His blue eyes widened as he took a single step back, rereading again. Little things came back, slowly and surely and almost terrifyingly so.

His mother’s maiden name was Hubbard and Gramma Hubbard was born Rossi and immigrated to the US when she was seventeen. His mother made the best food and was a force to be reckoned with. His father was a dock manager and helped him to get a job. His sisters were loud and obnoxious but he adored them. He visited every week. Rebecca was pregnant when Bucky went overseas and was gonna have a kid.

He had a family. He had a past. He had a name.

He reread the parts about Steve. Best friends since childhood. Since that stupid bully threw a rock at a little boy’s head and Steve dove into a fight and Bucky ran after him to try and stop him from getting hurt. Going to dance halls and getting girls to dance with both of them. Going to a science fair on the last night before he was shipped off. Thanking every bone of his body that Steve was denied from enlisting again and again and again, and then the horror when he saw a bigger and stronger Steve above him in Zola’s chambers.

Every bit of blood in his body turned to ice as he remembered the name Zola.

Zola. HYDRA. Pain. Suffering. Torture. Tearing apart everything that he was and putting the Fist of HYDRA in his place. Steve saving him. Steve not being able to save him from that fall. Picking up the shield and risking and losing his life to save him.

That part at least, he did not regret.

He hadn’t realized that he was walking out of the museum until he was in an alley blocks away. Everything was too loud. The noise of the city was pounding into his ears, building up to a roar that deafened him. He felt heat in his eyes, bile in the back of his throat as he realized how much Steve said was true. How he’d been lied to. How HYDRA had used him and kept using him and what they might have turned him from.

James Barnes. James Buchanan Barnes.

He had a name. He had a name and he had people who loved him and he might very well be more than the fist of HYDRA. Everything was tumbling and mixing together in his head and all he wanted to do was throw up.

His fist lashed out, metal colliding with brick and stone. Pieces of the wall rained down onto the ground of the alley, the sound of the punching fading away until the only noise that remained was that of his panicked breathing.

He didn’t throw up. Instead, he rested his head against the wall and struggling to breathe, to pull his mind back together. To figure out how the hell he was supposed to react to any of this, what he was supposed to think and do and say and absolutely everything with that. His brain pounded a steady beat against his skull, and he took another deep and shaky breath, his hand going to his mouth.

James Barnes.

He had a name.

He had a name and it was James Barnes, and the man on the bridge was telling the truth the entire time. Steve was telling the truth. Saving Steve’s life was the right call. He’d made a call against the orders of his superiors and it’d been a right one, because he told the truth.

What else had his superiors lied about? Who was he? Why did he know the redhead on the bridge, why did he go after her automatically instead of focusing on the true danger of Captain America? Why had all of this happened?

He had to figure it out. He had to figure it out, and soon, before they found him. Because he didn’t know if he could be Bucky Barnes anymore, not with all he’d done, not with how good a man Bucky Barnes had been, but he did not want to be the Winter Soldier anymore. He did not want to be HYDRA, did not want to go back with them when he found them.

But even if they did, he realized, would he have to go with them? He was stronger than any of them. If they didn’t know the words, then there was nothing they could do to him. He’d killed the two techs in the basement below, snapped their necks, before they’d been able to say the words. He’d fought back, and he’d won, with no consequences to himself. He was still free. He’d gone to this museum to find information on the man on the bridge by his own free will.

He could make that choice.

And right then, he realized, he had another choice to make.

He made it before he walked back onto the streets, disappearing into the crowd moments later.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha begins. Steve and Sharon meet. Sam reaches out. The soldier chooses.

“You know I don’t actually know where he was, right? I only know what he was trying to do.”

“I know, Maria,” Natasha sighed. “And that’s more than I need. I know the trail he leaves. I just need to know where to start.”

Kate was outside with Barney now, explaining certain dog rituals and saying a prolonged goodbye to Lucky. Natasha didn’t rush it. Not when she knew that this was going to be a hard mission for Kate. Hell, this was going to be Kate’s first real mission.

He wasn’t dead. She refused to believe Clint was dead.

Maria Hill, on the other hand, was another story.

“He might be dead, Romanoff,” Maria pointed out. It was maybe the fourth time she’d brought it up in conversation. “All the proof we have of his survival is that phone conversation days ago.”

“Clint survived a few days as the puppet of an Asgardian god, he can survive a few cockroaches,” Natasha pointed out, her tone a bit sharper as she paced through the motel room, taking a deep breath. “He’s alive. I know it.”

“We’ve already lost a hell of a lot, we can’t afford to lose you too, Nat.” That was as close to open, friendly concern as Maria would ever get, and Natasha tried very hard to be grateful to it. She was still getting used to the friend thing, even over a decade after the Red Room.

“I’ve got to try.” Natasha’s voice was solid, and she looked away, sitting on the bed. “He’s one of the few things I have. I won’t give up on him. I can’t. And I’m not going to just sit around here while he’s in trouble. I couldn’t before, and I can’t now.”

There was silence for a few minutes, and Natasha knew that she’d gotten through to him. Maria was still dealing with the government in the aftermath of HYDRA’s reveal. As one of the highest ranking members of SHIELD in this chaos, she was going to be attending meetings of Congress for the foreseeable future. Leaving DC wasn’t smart for her, not now, not when she had a chance to try and provide parachutes to loyal agents.

And possibly join Stark. Maria refused to answer that question.

Maria sighed. “His mission was to infiltrate Ulysses Klaue’s organization in South Africa. He’s an arm dealer. Dangerous. Rich. We think he might have crossed the Wakanda border at some point. Clint’s mission was to make his way through the ranks, find evidence for an arrest or justified assassination. South Africa is your best bet.”

“Thank you, Maria,” Natasha added after a moment. “I really do appreciate it. If you need anything…”

“Yeah, I know how to get in contact with you.” Maria paused. “Good luck, Nat.”

“You too, Ria.” Natasha hung up the phone. She took a few minutes to breath, plot the next move, and then left the motel room. That would be the last moment she had to herself for a long time, she knew that now. She’d savored it enough. She locked the door on the way out and headed down the stairs towards the small lawn between the motel and a DJ’s Burgers.

On that lawn, Kate and Barney were talking quietly. Looking very much like Clint, Barney was several years older and was what they both called a reformed mess, now happily living as a freelance security consultant in Iowa with three children and a lovely wife named Laura who Natasha was very much convinced was one of the best people in the world.

Kate noticed Natasha coming down first, nodding towards her to alert Barney. Barney glanced over when he saw Kate’s attention turning, his eyes narrowing. He looked enough like Clint in that moment that it was nearly a stab in her chest, one she pushed away. There was no time for grief, especially when it was grief unwarranted. She would not mourn Clint.

“You have somewhere?” Kate asked, perking up slightly at the possibility of a lead.

“South Africa. How’s your Afrikaans?” Natasha wondered.

Kate winced. “I’ll spring for wifi on the plane ride over to study.”

“Good answer,” Natasha replied. She turned to Barney Barton, raising an eyebrow over towards him before sighing and saying, “You know he’ll appreciate you taking Lucky.”

“If it was a nuclear apocalypse, Clint would choose to save the dog over everyone else,” Barney deadpanned, sighing before bending down and patting Lucky’s head. “And the kids will be thrilled about a dog. Maybe it’ll convince Laura to get one.”

“You have horses and chickens already, a dog shouldn’t be that difficult.” Natasha leaned down, rubbing Lucky’s head before promising, “Don’t worry, Lucky. I’m gonna bring back Clint and you’ll go home.”

Barney sighed. “Just answer me honestly. Do I need to kidnap Mia on the way out of town? She’s not gonna be targeted for operating on Captain America?” he asked. “Because I’ll totally kidnap her on the way out of town. Laura might kill me, but she’ll kill me more if Mia gets hurt. Though her mom might already be planning her kidnapping.”

“You realize how insane that sounds?” Kate asked dryly.

Barney rolled his eyes. “Very well. My in-laws are weird.”

Natasha was almost glad for the chance to roll her eyes at Barney Barton. “HYDRA has enough to worry about. They’re not going to go after her,” Natasha assured her, bending down to pet Lucky, sighing softly. She never thought that she would get attached to the dumb dog, but she did. "Mia isn't a direct threat."

Lucky whined and licked at her hands, tail wagging happily as he stared up at her with that single eye. Barney only sighed, leaning down and scratching the dog’s head lightly. “C’mon, boy, it’s a long drive back to Iowa,” he said, glancing back to Nat. “I really hope you’re right.”

“I am.” She made a mental note, however, to make sure that someone knew to keep an eye on Mia here in DC. She was a civilian, but HYDRA killed civilians in that hospital to get to Captain America.

Kate was clearly trying very hard not to cry over her goodbye to Lucky. “Remember, lots of walks, lots of pets, and he loves pizza,” Kate pointed out. “And no sleeping outside. He sleeps on a couch or on a bed. Your kids would probably love that. And remember. Pizza. Lots of cheese.”

“I’m not feeding a dog pizza,” Barney protested, clearly having heard that list before. “It’s a dog.”

Kate shot a death glare at Barney. “How are you and Clint related?” the brunette muttered. She bent down and rubbed Lucky’s head one last time before heading to the jeep, getting into the passenger’s seat. Lucky barked, trying to lunge after Kate, and the brunette archer looked like she wanted to cry.

“She’s trouble,” Barney pointed out simply. “My brother knows how to find that without help.”

“I think she’s helped him as much as he’s helped her. And she’s going to help with finding him,” Natasha replied. She shook her head before saying, “We better head out. We need to get to an airport quickly and we need to make a few stops along the way. Take care, Barney. Tell Laura and the kids I say hi.”

“You too, Romanoff.” Clint’s older brother nodded simply. Natasha didn’t look back as he headed towards the car. There was so much to do. At the very least, Lucky was safe and would continue to be safe with the Barton family. That was one less thing to worry about.

“Natasha.”

His voice caused her to turn around in slight surprise, raising an eyebrow in acknowledgement that she’d heard him. Barney was watching her carefully. “Find,” he said simply. “Bring him back home.”

Natasha nodded. “That’s what I’m planning. And I don’t care how many HYDRA cells I have to burn down to do it.” That drew a smile out of Barney. “I’m bringing him back home. For all of us.”

She was bringing Clint home. Nothing was going to stop that.

* * *

 

Sam Wilson once thought he was walking away from war for good. But this was not a war. This was a hunt. This was a mission. And more importantly, this was a rescue mission.

Rescue missions were something he could handle. He’d done dozens of them overseas with Riley. They were the only graduates of the Falcon Program, the only ones who’d passed every test thrown their ways. One of the nicknames the boys on the ground called them were the guardian angels, descending from on high to perform miracles.

Sam knew they were going to need a serious miracle to save Bucky. Then again, miracles seemed to be par for the course when it came to Steve Rogers.

While emptying his pockets to throw a load of laundry in, Sam found the note that Doctor Mia Stiles slipped in days before. He hadn’t texted her yet. He knew that he should. God knew when he would be back in town. He and Steve would be away for god knew how long. And he’d told Steve that he had to start living his life too.

Sam typed out a text, one that was possibly a bit too long, but he wanted to do this. He wanted something to come back to, even if it was something as simple as a date. He sent the text after summoning his courage, leaving the phone on the bed.

_Hey, it’s Sam from the hospital. I’m leaving town for a while. Sorry I couldn’t message you sooner. Maybe we can do something when I get back. I’m sorry for springing this on you. But we’re making sure the people who tried to hurt you and Steve don’t hurt someone else._

A reply was waiting when Sam came back with laundry less than a half hour later.

_Glad to hear from you. Be careful. When you get back, dinner? If you want to talk while you’re on this trip, I’m here._

_I might end up taking you up on that. Just a warning._

He could almost hear the smirk in her reply. _I offered for a reason._

Sam grinned. Maybe having something to come back to would be a good thing.

* * *

 

 Three days after the fire at the bank, Steve plucked up his courage and called the phone number that Sam had programmed in the day he’d been in the hospital, the number of someone Sam said would come.

He didn’t know why he was calling her, asking her to meet with him. Maybe it was closure of his own. Maybe it was to keep himself from burning bridges he might possibly need again. And maybe it was because she had a link to his past, but was something of a future as well. Whatever it was, he held the phone to his ear, waiting for her to answer and hoping she would.

A feminine voice came on before asking, “Carter.”

“Sharon? It’s… it’s Steve.” He took a deep breath and summoned courage he didn’t know he needed. “Can we get a cup of coffee? I think we need to talk.”

There was a pause, and if it wasn’t for the sound of light breathing, Steve would have thought she hung up. At last her voice came on as she replied, “Okay. Sure. When?”

So a few hours later, they met in neutral territory – a café a few blocks away from the train station. Sam was grabbing a bite to eat before they hopped on a train to New York, and Steve wanted to clear up his own loose ends. He arrived first, a baseball cap on his head and a few days’ stubble collecting on his face.

He saw her when she arrived, her hair in a ponytail and dressed in a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. She looked casual and like any other woman running around doing errands and meeting someone for coffee. She looked normal. She went to the counter first and got her order, having it put in a travel mug she was carrying. He remembered Natasha mentioning once upon a time that she was a coffee lover. Maybe she’d been talking about Kate, but the clear wear on the travel mug told him it might hold true for Sharon as well.

Sharon caught sight of him while waiting for her coffee. She hesitated for a second, but smiled over at him, waving and gesturing that she would be another minute. Steve only nodded, sipping at his coffee and missing the days when coffee was so much cheaper and so much better.

Sharon sighed as she sat down across from him, her hands curled around the cup. “I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t surprised to get that phone call,” she admitted. She watched him carefully. “How are you?”

“Good as I can be,” Steve admitted. The fact that he was admitting at all that he might not be the best was a surprise to even him. “I’m leaving DC. Sam and I are getting on a train to New York in less than an hour.”

“New York?” Sharon raised an eyebrow. “You going back to the Tower? I know Tony’s calling it Avengers Tower now.”

Steve nodded. “It’s the best place we have to start. We don’t know where he might go first. There are so many bases around the eastern seaboard, and even more that we don’t know about. So we’re going to Brooklyn first, hope that he’ll come to where he was born, especially if he’s looking for information. And if he doesn’t, we can get supplies and things we need from Stark.”

“He’ll be more than willing to help. He’s an ass, but his heart is in the right place.”

“I didn’t know you two knew each other,” Steve admitted. He’d heard about it afterward from Sam, how Stark had called Sharon Shar-Bear of all things. That was weird to hear about.

Sharon smirked slightly, shaking her head. “He actually helped a bit when my parents died. Helped to pay for a lawyer when my mom‘s parents threatened to sue Colleen for custody. Peggy’s his godson, so… you know. We’ve kept an eye on each other.”

Steve only nodded, reaching for his own coffee. “I think Pepper helps him a lot. She’s a hell of a woman.”

Sharon laughed and nodded. “I’m pretty sure that Tony would be long dead without Pepper,” she admitted. “And I think she’s going to keep him from going insane over the whole baby thing…”

Steve was in the process of drinking from his coffee cup when he heard that. It took a few moments for the meaning and understanding of it to click in his head. When he did, he nearly choked, setting the cup down and putting a hand to his throat as he coughed deeply, trying to ignore the burning down his throat. He looked back over towards her, his eyes wide.

“The _what_ thing?” Steve asked, staring over at her.

Sharon took on a look more reminiscent of a deer in headlights than anything else. “Um, Pepper’s pregnant. I thought you knew.”

“No, Tony was gone before I woke up. He found the shield then went back to New York.” He gestured at the bag underneath his seat, a custom-made one Pepper herself had commissioned so he could carry around the shield inconspicuously.

“Sorry to spoil it, then,” she replied, shooting him a sheepish smile.

“No, I’m glad I reacted like that in front of you than anyone else,” Steve admitted. He leaned back, shaking his head before saying, “I used to not be able to believe that Howard was a father. Now Tony’s gonna be one.”

Sharon snorted before saying, “The baby has Pepper for a mother, so it totally has a chance.” She shook her head. “I think it’s a good thing. It’s… it’s giving me a little hope. You know. That good things are still happening even after everything else is going on. There’s still life.”

Steve hadn’t thought of it like that. He realized that she was completely right. There was life after this. Tony and Pepper were going to be parents. Live were moving on after trauma and pain, and that gave him some hope that he realized he needed. Especially considering everything that he was going to be doing.

Silence stretched between them after a few minutes. Sharon watched him, and he sighed, his thumb tracing the edge of the coffee cup. It was only after a few minutes of silence when Sharon shook her head and turned her attention back to Steve, clearly her throat and drawing his attention.

“Is there a reason you wanted me here?” Sharon asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Her arms crossed against the table, and she leaned forward, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones. “You don’t do anything without a reason, Captain.”

Steve sighed. “You’re right. This… this is me trying to apologize.”

That was clearly the last thing Sharon expected, considering the raised brow and the crinkle of her forehead. “For what?” she asked. “For the whole Kate fiasco? Because I don’t think you owe me an apology for that.”

“It’s for being rude to you in the Triskelion. For attacking you in Peggy’s room.” He took a deep breath before adding, his voice lower, “For thinking that you might be HYDRA. I’m sorry. Sam told me what Fury said, that you were giving Hill intel from the inside. You risked your life to try and protect me in the operating theater. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

Sharon shook her head. “I’m sorry you were hurt. I didn’t… I didn’t want that to happen. You were never supposed to find out. Fury was worried about you. About culture shock and PTSD and anxiety and depression… soldiers coming home are at risk for it. You’re no exception to some things.”

Steve honestly never thought of it that way, that Fury might have her observing him out of worry for his mental health. He wasn’t surprised Fury hadn’t told him that, of course. He wouldn’t have reacted well to it. But hearing that in a coffee shop in the middle of DC, it made far more sense.

“I can’t apologize for doing my job, but I am sorry it went so wrong. And I’m sorry that it had to happen like this.” Sharon sighed and sipped at her coffee. “Though I don’t think any of us thought that this was going to happen.”

"With how close to the second we were on stopping Insight, I owe you thanks, too." Steve gestured over at her before saying, "I know what happened. Nat told me. You gave us some time that we needed, everyone in that tech center."

Sharon scoffed slightly. "You should have heard the water cooler talk over the last few days. Everyone knew this was bullshit. None of us knew just how bad it was."

“You did your job as a SHIELD agent. Protecting me, trying to protect other people... and I can't blame you for that. Not anymore.” He took a deep breath before realizing something, something he hadn’t thought about before now. He turned to her with a frown. “Did Peggy know? About you watching me?”

Sharon shook her head. “She kept so many secrets. I didn’t want to ask her to keep one from you.”

He was surprised by the caring in her voice, the fact that she was as determined to protect Peggy as he was. “Is she safe now?” Steve asked. He took a deep breath before adding, “Is she... is she okay?”

Sharon didn’t reply, merely sipping and finishing her coffee. She set it down before taking a napkin from the center of the table. She folded it carefully, looking almost glad to have something between her hands. “She's remembered HYDRA showing back up so far,” she admitted. “She blames herself for a lot of it. We haven't talked about it as much. Colleen said she doesn't want to ask me to focus on it more. She knows I was there. And she knows that I did the right thing. But it's still hard. She feels like she failed.”

“She didn’t fail anyone.” There was an edge of protective anger in his voice, and he hoped that Sharon wouldn’t think it was directed at her.

Sharon smiled sadly. “But she’s like you in the fact that she’ll blame herself. You know where Colleen’s name comes from? Peggy’s roommate back in the forties, after she moved in New York. She was murdered by someone going after Peggy. She’s carried it ever since and named Colleen after her.”

Steve had never heard that story, and his voice caught in his throat. “Jesus,” he muttered.

“She's gonna blame herself forever for this. But she knows that a lot of people did the right thing when it came down to it, and that was what SHIELD was supposed to be,” Sharon continued, exhaling through her nose. “She protected so many people. I wish I could protect her from this.”

"So do I." Steve hesitated before looking back over at her. "You'll keep in touch with me? Keep me updated about how she is?"

Sharon nodded before saying, "She wants you to find a life here. She made me promise to help you if you can. So... whatever you need, I'm here. Peggy's gonna have peace now. She's back staying at Colleen's house, and Colleen's taking leave. She's gonna be away from everything and I'm going to do everything I can to keep her away from it."

“Understandable,” Steve said. “She fought in wars for a long time. She deserves some peace.”

“You do too, you know,” Sharon interjected, raising an eyebrow back at him.

Steve only gave a tired laugh. “Maybe someday. I’ve got a few things to do first.”

“Like finding Barnes.”

Steve nodded. “I can’t give up on him. Not after everything we went through.” He looked back over at her. “I can’t stop now. I’ve got to find him. Whether it’s to save him or stop him. I’ve got to try.”

“I understand,” Sharon replied simply. She sighed. “I can’t blame you, either.” She looked back at him. “You’re not going alone, are you?”

“No,” Steve confirmed immediately, waving his hand slightly. “Sam is coming with me. I’m amazed that he is and think he’s insane for willing to come, but he’s coming.”

“He’s a good man. And so are you.” Sharon managed a quiet smile, almost shy. He recognized it more as wariness than anything else, as someone who was trying to trust but couldn’t, not just yet. "I was serious, you know. About helping. Whatever you need, I'm here. I'm no Rising Tide member, but I'm good at hacking and getting intel."

He really had been a jerk to her. He'd physically attacked her and she was still willing to help because Peggy had asked her to, and she was willing to do that. There was nothing okay about that. And he wanted to make it better, clean up the loose ends left behind before he walked away from DC on the next chapter, to whatever lay in front of him. The idea came to his head a moment later, and after deciding that it wasn’t a stupid idea, he made another choice.

Steve hesitated before saying, “Maybe we should start over.”

Sharon raised an eyebrow, genuine surprise crossing her face when Steve held out a hand. “My name is Steve Rogers,” he introduced himself, managing an almost sheepish smile. “Your aunt’s told me a lot about you. I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Understanding crossed her face a moment later. To Steve’s relief, she reached out her own hand, shaking it firmly, a few moments later. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she replied. “I’m Sharon Carter. I’m really glad to meet you, Steve.”

Steve only smiled, letting go of her hand. “I should go and catch my train,” he said. He looked back over at her before admitting, “I don’t know if I’ll be in contact with anyone. But just… stay safe. Please. And be careful.”

He moved to his feet and she did the same. Sharon took his hand, shaking it firmly, and Steve did the same. He was glad that things were at least no longer as awkward between them, that he had someone who might count as an ally after everything they’d been through.

Sharon squeezed his arm. “Be careful, Steve.” As she walked away, she turned back to look at him and added, “And don’t lose yourself along the way.”

Steve watched her disappear into the crowd, sighing for a few moments. If nothing else went right today, then he at least stopped burning a bridge he might potentially need one day. Natasha might have wanted a date from the two of them, but he knew that a cordial relationship like this was all he could do for now. Especially considering what he still had to do.

Steve turned and walked back into the crowd, heading for the station. He had a train to catch and a man to find, and nothing was going to stop him now.

* * *

 

He went back to the safe house a few days after his trip to the museum.

What he did first was figure out what he needed. A homeless shelter provided new clothes and a large backpack. They were kind, and he slipped them some cash from the wad he’d taken from the safe house as payment. He’d bought a pair of good boots, some comfy socks, and food to go.

He’d found a forger in DC, and cash was enough to stop any questions. He had a license in case he was stopped, a passport to leave the country. But then again, he wasn’t planning on being stopped. Or seen.

He closed the door to the safe house behind him and went into the back room. There was a large closet in the back, locked. His metal hand curled around the lock, and he pulled sharply, tearing it and the door off of the closet. He let it drop behind him, breathing heavily as his eyes flickered around to what was inside the closet.

Inside were weapons. Guns. A few grenades. Knives.

He grabbed what he needed, anything he could get his hands on. He knew where he was going. He knew where the first base he was supposed to go to was. Baltimore. He had to get to Baltimore. It wasn’t too far away from Washington DC. He could get there within a day or two. From there, he could figure out how he could get in and take it down.

He knew what he was doing. He’d made his choice regarding HYDRA, and he was prepared for every step of it. A part of him almost relished the fact that they would not see him coming.

The Winter Soldier was a weapon. The Fist of HYDRA. The most feared assassin the world had known. He could disappear into a crowd. He could bring down a country. Nothing could stand in his way. Not even HYDRA.

Bucky Barnes was angry. And he was about to do something about it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Barney previously appeared in Chapter 2: Iowa of We're Going Down Swinging.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend passes. The group comes back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Withering Wonders begins approximately three months after Stripped to the Bone. Trigger warning for a canon character death, however.

**Part II: Withering Wonders**

* * *

 

On a blazing hot night in mid-July, nearly three months after the fall of SHIELD and the end of the world as he knew it, Steve Rogers received a phone call.

For the past few months, he and Sam ran all over the east coast of the United States. They’d been in Brooklyn two days when news of a massive fire and explosion in Baltimore ruined any hope of finding him in the city of his birth. By the time they got to Baltimore, he was long gone. From there, they moved on, using the cities in the file for any clue of where he might have gone, clues hidden between terrifying realizations Steve had about whose deaths Bucky and HYDRA had hands in.

It’d been a game of cat and mouse ever since, all along the eastern seaboard. Philadelphia, Boston, even down to Miami and Savannah, not mentioning the middle of nowhere safe house in the deepest parts of Maine. No matter where they’d gone, Bucky was there first, and gone by the time they arrived – usually leaving behind bodies burning in a massive fire.

Steve was still awake when the phone call came in. He didn’t sleep much. He required less sleep than a regular human because of the serum. Most of these sleepless nights were spent worrying – about what HYDRA might be doing next, whether Clint was alive, whether Bucky was safe that night. Worrying was practically his hobby by now.

The still very human Sam, however, was asleep, and groaned when he heard the phone ring. Steve slipped out of the room with the phone, burying it in his hands to keep it from disturbing Sam any longer. He’d been a saint over the past few months, and he wanted to make sure Sam got some rest after he’d been punched in the face by a HYDRA operative a few days ago.

“Rogers,” Steve said when he reached the motel hallway, his voice low. He kept his back to the door, briefly wondering who the hell would call him this late, let alone who might still have his phone number.

The voice on the other end was a surprise, though he recognized it immediately. “Steve, it’s Natasha.”

“Nat?” Steve was surprised to hear from her. She was on her own road trip, trying to find Barton, and he hadn’t expected to hear from her for a long while. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Natasha’s voice was quiet as she said, “I’m fine. I… we need to talk. Are you alone?”

Steve looked around the hallway. No one would be awake at this hour other than him, he was confident enough of that. Even then, people seemed to avoid the motel. As he saw a rat scurry down the hall, he couldn’t pretend not to understand why. “I’m in a motel hallway. About as alone as I can get… what’s going on?”

Whatever he expected, he didn’t expect the next words coming out of the phone.

“Peggy Carter passed away a few hours ago. Sharon wanted you to hear from a friend, before the news broke. The funeral is in five days. I’m so sorry, Steve.”

He felt like he’d been stabbed in the gut. With a rocket. Maybe a sword.

Steve leaned against the wall, trying to comprehend exactly what Natasha told him. He knew that it was coming. Sharon said she wasn’t doing well, that she was struggling and that moving her might have been the best move for her safety, but not her health. She was older and she was ailing and he knew she wasn’t suffering anymore.

But it still hurt to think about, and Steve felt knives in his chest every time he breathed.

“Thank you for telling me.” Steve was amazed his voice was steady. “I… I’ll head to DC. Is that where she is?”

“Yeah. Just outside of it, Virginian suburbs. I’ll get you the exact location. Are you in the States?” There was an edge of open sympathy that Natasha held, one he hadn’t expected. He hadn’t talked to her since what happened in DC, but he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t glad to hear her voice now.

“Yeah. We’re… Sam and I are outside Pittsburgh. We thought that there might be a clue here, but it’s another dead end. They’re all dead ends,” Steve replied, his voice becoming frustrated as he leaned his head against the wall. He moved, his back hitting the wall as he slid down, sitting on the floor. “All we’ve got is dead ends.”

“You only need one live end to find him. He’s been running for months. He’ll get tired soon. And it’s not easy to go at his pace of burning everything to the ground. He’s going to make a mistake. Anger makes people stupid.” There was a clinical edge of analysis to Natasha’s voice, and while Steve knew she was right, he didn’t think that she was.

It’d been months. Months without a glimpse and now Peggy was dead and Steve felt so much father down than he did when SHIELD fell.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what he could say. “I hope you’re right,” he decided. “I really hope you’re right, Nat.”

“I am right, most of the time. Just ask anyone.”

Steve managed a weak smile. He knew that Natasha was trying so hard to at least help on some level. He knew it was going to be a lot harder to get back to normal. He closed his eyes again, tugging a hand through his hair before realizing he hadn’t heard from Natasha in months either. He paused, looking at the phone, hesitant to ask the question but knowing he needed to know as well.

“You find Barton?” he asked.

There was no reply before a simple statement of, “He’s alive. That’s all we know.”

“Barton’s a survivor,” Steve pointed out. “You said he always has been…”

“Yeah, he is.” There was a tiredness to Natasha’s voice as he heard an honest sigh over the phone. “There’s been no signs. We went through South Africa and we’ve been moving through countries that Klaue has business in. There’s been nothing.”

Steve sighed. He’d been hoping for good news. Considering the lack of progress regarding finding Bucky, he’d hoped that Natasha would have better luck than him. He hoped to get a phone call or a text or even a selfie taken by Barton of the two of them as confirmation that he was safe. He didn’t want to lose another friend to HYDRA.

“You’ll find him. HYDRA doesn’t know what they’re dealing with when it comes to you, and they don’t know how tough Barton really is,” Steve assured her. His own voice felt hoarse now, and he dimly realized there was a throbbing pain in his forehead.

“Thanks.” There was an edge to Natasha’s voice, and she changed the subject. Steve wasn’t surprised by it. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Steve hung up the phone a few moments later, staring down at it as he sat on the ground of the motel hallway. He didn’t know what to say or do.

He buried his face in his hands and breathed, praying he could wake up and let this be a nightmare.

* * *

 

 It was peaceful.

Three months after the Triskelion, Sharon was still job searching. She turned down the CIA after thinking about it more and when they explained that it would involve a probable transfer to Germany. She wasn’t ready for that big a change, and she didn’t want to leave Peggy and Colleen.

She’d been staying at the house Colleen raised her, Dan, and Tom when Peggy said that she wanted to watch something with them. Lizzie, Peggy's only granddaughter, had stayed in DC for the summer for an internship in State Department, and she'd joined them for the night. They’d found the old Howling Commandos cartoon on a streaming site, and they’d watched until they fell asleep on couches, Peggy making fun of the deviations, Colleen laughing at the writing, Lizzie gleeful that they were letting her drink despite being nineteen, and Sharon laughing at the fact that they were having this time together. At one point, Colleen went to go and get them Peggy's favorite type of wine after the older woman persuaded her daughter to let her drink as well.

"You have a bright future, Sharon," Peggy pointed out to her when Lizzie had left the room briefly to put more popcorn into the microwave.

Sharon was lying on the other side of the sectional couch, and glanced up towards her aunt. "Doesn't feel like it sometimes," she said simply. "And I'm not exactly back to work."

"Your work was blown up, you have an excuse." An odd look came over Peggy's face, as if she was searching for something. "Do promise me you'll find something outside of it, though. You can't live your life alone. I know. I've tried."

The blonde, blinked heavily before sighing and moving to sit next to her. She knew that she was isolating herself. She was still struggling to accept what happened. "I'll be okay," she promised. "I always am."

Peggy chuckled softly. "That's about all I can get out of you, I suppose." She squeezed her niece's hand when Colleen returned with the wine and Lizzie with the popcorn. "You'll live a life, Sharon. One that you truly deserve."

They turned on another movie, and all four fell asleep in the middle of it. At two am, Lizzie woke them up, sobbing and saying that Peggy wasn't breathing.

At the age of ninety-three, Peggy Carter was gone. It was peaceful. Peggy deserved that.

The last few days were a blur. The Carters gathered; Mike arrived from a ship in the Pacific at 2 am. Sharon picked up Dan, Tommy, and their families from the train station ten hours after Lizzie found Peggy dead. 

There was so much to figure out. Colleen and Mike had been talking about selling the house; they'd grown up there, but now, a part of it was tainted. An old friend of Colleen's, a board of trustee member at Brooklyn Visions Academy, was attempting to persuade her to move to New York to take the position of principal of the school. Andrew Morita was also trying to convince her to join MSST as a vice principal. She was seriously considering it; Dan and Tommy already lived up there with their families.

Sharon was considering a move herself. Tony offered her a job at least four times in the last three months, and there was nothing left in DC for her now that Peggy was gone. Maybe getting away from the bad memories would help.

The funeral was simple. Larger than Colleen and Mike wanted, but that was to be expected. Peggy touched so many lives in her own life, and so many people wanted to say goodbye. Sharon couldn’t blame them for that. Mike had used his considerable influence as an active US admiral to keep it from becoming a circus.

What did surprise her was the fact that Colleen and Mike asked her to give the eulogy. Colleen pointed out gently that she was always at the home, and that she was close to Peggy, knew her well. She’d been staying at Colleen’s to help with Peggy while she figured out her next move. She’d always idolized her and wanted to be like her when she grew up, and she had – she’d joined SHIELD.

Sharon managed not to point out that SHIELD fell apart and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. She couldn't protect Peggy's legacy then, and she didn't know how she could live up to it now.

So she gave the eulogy and managed not to break down in the middle of it. When it was over, she walked down from the pulpit and caught sight of a pair of familiar blue eyes.

Sharon hoped he would make it there. She’d tried to get a hold of Natasha as soon as possible after Peggy’s death, and the redhead promised that she would try and contact Rogers to let him know. He deserved to be able to say a proper goodbye. He deserved that closure after he lost so much of that to the ice. And she was more than glad that he’d been one of the six people carrying Peggy’s coffin to the front, along with Mike, Tommy, Jack, Tommy's husband Will, and Dan.

She didn’t turn back around, but walking to her own seat was enough to see who was with Steve. Tony sat in the same row as Steve, Pepper by his side. Sam was on Steve’s other side, and Sharon shot them all a grateful look before sitting down with the rest of the family, on the edge. She’d always felt a bit like an outsider, even if she knew damned well that it was dumb, that her family loved her. Sharon and Peggy, though, were both born Carters. Sharon and Peggy were the last of them.

And now, one of them was gone for good. Sharon was all that remained of that legacy, the only Carter left in intelligence.

As she sat down, she caught a glimpse of red hair from the corner of her eye. She glanced back for one moment, and realized it was exactly who she thought it was. Natasha nodded simply at her, and the brunette teenager next to her looked somewhat uncomfortable as she shot her a weak smile. Sharon was surprised that she’d come, but grateful all the same. Having people around her would help.

_You can't live your life alone._

Sharon closed her eyes, hoping that this would be over soon. Grief was toxic, and she knew she wanted to deal with hers. Peggy taught her that, not to let grief consume her, and she would not want her to mourn completely through a situation like this.

And as the funeral went on, Sharon wished wherever Peggy was, she was at peace. After a lifetime of war, she deserved that peace.

* * *

 

Steve stayed behind when everyone funneled out of the funeral.

Sam paused when he saw Steve standing there, but seemed to decide to give him some space. He walked out of the church with Pepper, the two remaining near the entrance and watching them. Steve once heard Sam joke that he and Pepper called themselves babysitters in some ways. He thought it was far more of how caring both Pepper and Sam were when compared to anything that he and Tony were.

“Are you going to the wake?” Tony asked, his voice surprisingly subdued. That was a sign more than anything to Steve that Tony was taking Peggy’s death hard. “I don’t think as many people are going to that. Colleen told me it’s only for close family and friends… apparently I count as that.”

“I’m going. I just need a minute or two here,” Steve replied, slipping his hands down. His fingers curled into the loops of his belt. “Just to say goodbye, y’know?”

Tony nodded in understanding. “I think we all do,” he promised.

Steve followed Tony’s eyes and caught sight of Peggy’s family. Colleen smiled weakly over at him, nodding simply in understanding before leading the way out of the church. Sharon nodded over at him, a little girl on her hip who Steve recognized as one of Peggy’s great-grandchildren, Colleen’s granddaughter. He would have to talk to her at the wake, see how she was doing.

If it kept him from acknowledging this dead weight in his chest where his heart once was, he would do anything.

Tony squeezed Steve’s shoulder, drawing out of his daze, and walked to the entrance of the church. He heard Tony murmur a greeting to someone, but didn’t realize who until a pretty redhead stood in front of him, her hair cut shorter than when he last saw her and her eyes shining with sympathy.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said, looking towards the picture of Peggy on the altar. She was young then, brown eyes determined. It was the Peggy Steve knew so long ago, the one who’d helped to change his life. “I wish I could have told you in a better way…”

“I’m glad that you told me. I wanted to be here for this,” Steve assured her, sighing deeply.

A brunette girl glanced back towards Natasha and nodded at her before heading to where Sam was waiting. She seemed to introduce herself, and Sam glanced at Natasha, waving at her briefly before walking out of the room. Steve and Natasha were left alone in the church, and Steve’s shoulders slumped immediately when he realized they were alone in the church.

“That’s Kate?” Steve asked. He hadn’t met the teenage archer, though he’d heard of her from Clint before his disappearance and Natasha. He knew that she was nineteen. But he hadn’t realized how young she truly was.

“Yeah. She didn’t want to take a break or leave me alone. We’ve pissed off a few people in our little hunt.” Natasha shrugged lightly before saying, “Part of the job. She’s good at it though. Clint’s got an eye for talent.”

“He recruited you, didn’t he?” Steve was glad that comment drew a smile out of Natasha. He knew the next question would be a hard one, but it was one he had to ask, to be completely sure. “How do you know he’s alive?”

Natasha stiffened for the briefest of moments before the movement faded away. “We found security footage of him being taken. Klaue’s people realized he was SHIELD and sold him when HYDRA came out. They wanted him alive, they’re not going to kill him for a long while. It’s just a matter of finding where they took him.”

Steve nodded simply. “When you find him, you know I’m going to be there. If it turns into a fight to get him out, I’ll be there. I’m not letting HYDRA take any more of my friends.”

He had every intention of following through on it. Clint was a friend. A fellow Avenger. A good man. And he would help get him away from HYDRA the second that Natasha knew where he was. He wasn’t going to let HYDRA get away with hurting people that he knew. He once vowed that he wouldn’t rest until all of HYDRA was killed or captured.

It was beyond that now. It was about protecting the people he had left from HYDRA, and finding the ones that HYDRA was currently hurting. It was about finding and helping Bucky, and rescuing Clint.

“I appreciate it.” Natasha glanced over towards the doors, as if expecting someone to be waiting for her. “I’m not going to the wake. I’m not good at this stuff. And I have a contact I need to meet with.”

“Why did you come?”

The question came before he could think it through. The look of surprise on Natasha’s face told him that she hadn’t even considered the why. She’d just dropped everything in the hunt for her partner and came here to make sure that he was okay. She was a friend. Natasha Romanoff was a true friend, and Steve felt horrible for whatever moments of doubt he’d had months ago, when she’d lied to him about what was on the _Lemurian Star_.

Natasha didn’t reply before she admitted, “I wanted to be there for you. If you needed it.”

Steve swallowed a lump in his throat. “I’m glad you’re here.” There was a crack in his voice that came before he could hide it.

She reached up and hugged him. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged, but he held onto her, taking a deep breath as his arms curled around her tightly. It was a hug he desperately needed after the last few months, once he wished could last so much longer than it did. He was the one who let it go. They both had duties after this. They both had lives to get back to. And he couldn’t hold her away from hers much longer.

“Thank you, Nat,” he murmured.

Natasha only nodded, squeezing his arm again. “That’s what friends are for.” There was almost a hesitation to that. Even months after he confirmed to her that they were friends, that he would trust her to save his life, there was still an edge to Natasha that couldn’t believe people could care about her.

He hoped someday she could.

* * *

 

Sharon, in general, was not a fan of big crowds.

She loved traveling. She loved exploring. But she was much more of a fan of doing it on her own, going at her own pace and loving every second of it. There was something beautiful in solitude that she hadn’t found with anyone else. But a wake was a beast of a different nature. And she’d had no time in the last few days to take a step back and decompress from the loss and grief.

And there were only so many apologies or expressions of sympathies she could take before she went insane.

Sharon left the bathroom she’d snuck into for a few moments of recharging, tugging a hand through her loose hair. In her childhood, the only funeral she’d gone to was her parents’ joint one. She’d been six-years-old with burns on her back and fierce eyes, and watched her parents be lowered into the dirt, holding tightly onto Colleen’s hand.

Since she’d joined SHIELD, Sharon attended at least fifteen funerals. Ten of them were in the last three months, for those killed in the fall of the Triskelion or by HYDRA in its aftermath. Loss was something to be expected in her business, but this was a different loss. This was a loss to old age, to health, to mortality.

She was no stranger to morality. She knew that everyone died eventually. She was well aware of her own morality, after outliving both of her parents in one night. But Peggy seemed immortal, and the truth that she wasn’t was daunting.

Sharon pushed the thoughts away and dove back into the crowds. She needed a distraction. She didn’t want to process her grief and thoughts until she was alone and with a good bottle of wine. Only then would she let herself break down. For now, Colleen and the rest of the family needed her to be a rock, and so a rock she would be.

She went to check on her adoptive mother first. Colleen was speaking quietly to an older man with a shock of white hair. Sharon didn’t recognize him, and hung back for a second until Colleen noticed her. The dark haired woman smiled weakly at the blonde, gesturing her over before looking back at the older man.

“Sharon, this is Doctor Hank Pym,” Colleen introduced, gesturing at the older man. “He worked with Mom for a long time. Hank, this is Sharon. Harrison’s daughter.”

“I’ve heard about you,” Sharon mentioned, surprised that he was here. She knew from Peggy’s stories that Hank Pym left SHIELD under less than ideal circumstances, and went on to found his own private company that had a history of a rivalry with Stark Industries. “I’m surprised you’re here.”

Colleen shot her a look at her open admission, but Pym seemed to take it in stride. “Just because I disagreed with her on many issues doesn’t mean that Peggy Carter wasn’t a good woman,” Hank replied, shaking Sharon’s hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Sharon replied, shaking his hand firmly. “I’m sure she would be glad you were here.”

“She’d roll her eyes at me for not keeping in contact even after everything that happened. She was a good friend of my wife. And... Janet would have wanted me to come too.” Hank glanced around, his eyes narrowing slightly when he caught a glimpse of someone in the sunroom. “Excuse me.”

Hank Pym walked away, and Sharon shook her head. Hank Pym was the last person she’d expected to see at the funeral, and she deeply hoped that nothing would come of it. She wasn’t sure Colleen could handle if there was any drama at this wake. Hell, Sharon wasn’t sure she could handle any drama at this wake.

“You think he’ll start a fight with Tony?” Sharon asked in a low voice. She glanced back over to watch the crowd in the sunroom with the other CEO in question.

Tony was deep in conversation with Dan and Tommy, Colleen's respectively older and younger sons, while Pepper seemed to be the same with Dan's wife Laurel and Tommy's husband Will. That had to have been who Pym noticed, since she knew from Peggy’s stories that Hank Pym was not the biggest fan of the Stark family. Pepper’s stomach was clear at that point, and with her due date in less than three months, Sharon was half surprised she’d come. She had a feeling that perhaps Tony needed a bit more support than he would ever admit. She knew there was a floral arrangement from the Rhodes family in the kitchen, delivered by Mike's ex-wife and the twins' mom Tracy.

“No, they’ll avoid each other. Both of their egos are bigger than this house, but they know that Mom would rise from the grave and shoot them both if they dared to do anything,” Colleen promised, managing a weak smile before wrapping her arm around Sharon and kissing her temple. “Your eulogy was beautiful. I’m proud of you. And she would be too.”

Sharon only smiled weakly, hugging her adoptive mother gently before promising, “And she’d be proud of you too, Aunt Colleen.”

“What about me?”

Colleen and Sharon both glanced down to see a light-haired little girl looking up at them both, her hands on her hips. “Would Gramma Peggy be proud of me too?” she demanded, her dark brown eyes blinking up at them.

Sharon bent down and carefully picked up the oldest great-granddaughter of Peggy Carter, kissing the top of her head. “She would be so proud of you, Michaela,” she promised. “Gramma loved you a lot.”

The little girl looked satisfied, and happily rested her head on Sharon’s shoulder. “Mama and Daddy is talking to the loud man,” she reported, pointing towards the sunroom. “And Bailey's sleeping. And Jack and Lizzie won’t play with me.”

“Jack and Lizzie are nineteen. Nineteen-year-olds aren’t that fun,” Sharon assured her cousin's daughter, tickling her sides and drawing a giggle out of her. Michael’s twins was well in the angsty young adult phase, one Sharon knew very well, but she also knew Peggy had been a strong support for them after their parents' divorce, no matter how amicable Tracy and Mike were.

And Lizzie, after all, had been the one to discover Peggy had passed. Lizzie was dealing with her own grief at that discovery. “You know, I bet if you ask the loud man, he’ll draw a picture for you.” Even Sharon could find some joy in the mere idea of a little girl asking Tony Stark to draw with her.

Michaela perked up immediately, scrambling out of Sharon’s arms before running over. Colleen and Sharon watched as Michaela tugged at Tony’s leg, chattering when he bent down to her. Sure enough, Tony look surprised, but shrugged and nodded before letting Michaela lead him to the coffee table serving as her home base, as declared by Laurel in the interest of keeping her older daughter distracted from the mourning adults.

“He’ll be a good father,” Colleen noted mildly. She sighed before adding, “Better than Howard.”

“I just wish he would realize it.” Sharon glanced behind her when she felt someone watching, pausing when she realized who it was. “I’ll be back, Aunt Colleen,” she said, squeezing her adoptive mother’s shoulder before slipping to the man standing in the back of the room.

There was an exhaustion on Steve’s face that Sharon hadn’t noticed earlier. He watched as she came over, sighing as he nodded at her. “Hi,” Steve greeted.

“Hey.” Sharon’s own voice was tired, and she closed her eyes. “Sorry, I’m just… I’m a bit out of it right now. I’m glad that Nat could reach you. I thought… I thought you deserved to hear from her. I wouldn’t have been able to get it out without crying.”

“Thank you for making sure I knew.” There was open sympathy in his voice, and she was amazed he could feel something when he was most likely drowning in a sea of his own pain and loss. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Sharon nodded simply, reaching over and grabbing one of the drinks on a table before handing it to him. “And I’m sorry for yours.” She raised her own glass before saying, “To Peggy. A better person than either of us.”

“To Peggy,” Steve repeated. His tone was soft, and his eyes were sad. Their glasses clinked together, and Sharon downed hers easily. Steve only took a sip, setting the glass back down on the table. “You did well on the eulogy.”

Sharon snorted as she set her glass back down on the table. “I’m surprised I got through it in one piece,” she admitted. “It’s… it’s been a long few days. And it’s going to be a longer day still.”

“It’ll end eventually.” That was one lesson he’d learned in this hunt. “Every day ends eventually.”

She was silent for a few moments, studying him carefully. “If you need to talk, you’ve got my number,” Sharon said, sighing before turning her gaze back to the crowd. “About anything. About Barnes, about Peggy… about anything.”

Steve looked back at her in surprise. His face softened a moment later. “The same offer goes to you. You’re got mine.” The nod she shot him was probably the best reply he could have gotten.

They could have kept talking. They could have exchanged a dozen stories of Peggy, lost themselves to their grief in front of everyone. But both were made of stronger and harder stuff than that, and instead remained in a comfortable, companionable silence. Neither spoke as they watched the crowd of people who all loved Peggy Carter, who were all there to say goodbye to one of the best women the world ever saw.

The two bonded in the silence, watching those that grieved a woman who meant so much to them. A woman who now might bond them together in this grief, as an artifact of both their pasts – and perhaps as a key to their futures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Colleen Sousa** \- Sally Field  
>  **Admiral Michael Sousa** \- Henry Czerny  
>  **Dan Sousa** \- Enver Gjokaj  
>  **Tommy Sousa** \- Colin Donnell  
>  **Jack Sousa** \- Nick Robinson  
>  **Lizzie Sousa** \- Ava Hughes  
>  **Will Adams** \- Al Madrigal  
>  **Laurel Bailey-Sousa** \- Andrea Brooks
> 
>  
> 
> As a bit of background for the Carter family, it should be fairly obvious that Set the World on Fire assumes Peggy eventually married Daniel Sousa and had two children, Colleen and Michael. Colleen is involved in education for her career, and Michael is an admiral in the Navy (no, Sousa never stopped giving him shit about it). It also assumes that Peggy's brother Michael was married and his wife (here named Linda Wilcox) was pregnant or gave birth shortly before his death. When she died about nine years later, Peggy took in her nephew, Harrison. Harrison later went into both the military and politics and married biographer Amanda Nowak, and had Sharon when they were both a bit late in life, Harrison in his mid forties and Amanda in her late thirties.
> 
> Colleen retook her maiden name after a very ugly divorce from her husband when her sons were teens. Dan and Tommy are respectively nine and six years older than Sharon, who Colleen took in after Sharon's parents died in a house fire when she was six and Dan and Tommy were fifteen and twelve years old respectively. Colleen's older son Dan, named after his grandfather, is an NYPD police officer seen in Avengers, and his wife Laurel Bailey is a nurse at Metro General, and their daughters Michaela and Bailey are four years and eighteen months respectively at the time of the story. Laurel's older brother is the Detective Bailey seen in Luke Cage. 
> 
> Tommy is happily married to his husband Will Adams, and they travel a lot for their jobs, with Dan as a historical writer and expert (especially regarding intelligence and subterfuge in WWII) and Will is a correspondent with WHiH World News. They have made noise about moving to DC for good.
> 
> Michael is an admiral in the Navy and has a set of twins, nineteen-year-olds Lizzie and Jack. Lizzie is a sophomore at Culver studying political science and economics with hopes of joining the UN or diplomatic corps, while Jack is in his second year at West Point, intending to go into the army and make his grandfather proud and his Navy father and Air Force mother despair. Mike is amicably divorced from their mother Tracy Burke, a member of the Air Force who ironically works closely with Rhodey.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha meets her contact. Steve is reached out to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or, I try to see how many MCU little details I can stuff into one chapter.

In her line of work, Natasha was used to the idea of unsavory alliances.

She’d made more than enough of them. You didn’t survive unless you had the occasional ally. Hers just happened to be occasionally on the wrong side of legal. Since SHIELD’s fall, she’d been forced to rely on them far more than usual. That meant going back to a lot of Russian contacts she’d been hesitant about ever seeing again.

As it turned out, desperateness beat out pride in a lot of aspects of her hunt for Clint.

Kate stayed in the bar across the street while she went into the La Comtesse Furieuse. Kate claimed she’d spent enough of her time in stupidly fancy restaurants, and she wasn’t too keen on dressing up to go into one for a few minutes. Natasha understood that. She also understood that on some levels, Kate was very new to the spy game and would be more of a hindrance than a help in this situation.

The high-end Italian restaurant was crowded this time and place. She caught sight of at least three Senators out to dinner, and she was fairly sure that was not Senator Christian Ward’s wife sitting with him. But that wasn’t her concern at the moment. Dressed up a low key, knee-length purple dress with her hair tied back, Natasha could have been any other person out for a fancy dinner that night.

Her quarry wasn’t too difficult to find. Two admittedly gorgeous blondes sat at the table in the back, far from view and far from earshot. The first had her hair tied up, dressed in a beautiful blue gown that went to the floor, a laugh in her eyes and a slight smile on her face as she held the hand of the other one. The second blond woman’s dress was red and black and short, perfect for a fight if need be.

Knowing these women the way Natasha did, their dress choices made perfect sense.

“I’m surprised you’re not at a French place,” Natasha noted when she sat across from the two blondes. “More surprised at that then the fact that you’re in DC.”

The blonde with her hair tied up in an elaborate French braid rolled her eyes. “I’m _from_ France. To me it’s just food. And sadly, she’s still as Russian as the day she was born. Unable to appreciate delicate cuisine.” She gestured at the blonde on the other side, who rolled her own eyes.

“Overexpensive crap,” the blonde corrected, watching Natasha like a spider would a fly. “Natalia.”

Natasha’s lips curled slightly, a single tilt of her head serving as a greeting. “Yelena. I see France is treating you well. Or at least Adelynn is.”

Adelynn Duquesne, Maggia princess and a very old friend of Clint’s, rolled her eyes and placed a hand on Yelena Belova’s hand. The Russian seemed to be almost annoyed as she shook her head, taking a deep breath as she let Adelynn calm her down. “Mon amour, no starting a fight today. I want to come back to this place,” Adelynn warned.

Yelena rolled her eyes and sipped at the blood-red wine sitting in front of her. “I make no promises.”

“You never do.” Adelynn looked back at Natasha before adding, “You look well. I was glad to hear that you survived the tragedy here.”

“I’m nothing if not a survivor,” Natasha noted. She’d always been a survivor. No matter what hit her, she got up and hit back eight times harder. Nothing stopped her before, and nothing would stop her now. Especially not HYDRA.

“The Red Room tends to make those.” Yelena’s voice was void of bitterness, and she shook her head.

Natasha shot a warning glance at Yelena. She wasn’t here to discuss the Room and their shared history. She was here to find Clint, and if that meant getting information from a Maggia heir and her information broker wife that was what she was going to do. The Red Room was not something she was willing to discuss.

Adelynn’s face softened as she sighed, leaning back and simply saying, “I heard that Barton is missing. As much of an idiot he is, I have a soft spot for him. He’s tough though. And too stubborn to die.”

The admission was open, and Natasha knew damned well from Adelynn Duquesne’s reputation that she took care of the people she cared for. Considering she’d known Clint since childhood, Adelynn would be there to help him if she could. It was an excuse to create trouble, and Adelynn always loved trouble.

“What do you know, Adelynn? We’re here for a reason,” Natasha said. She wasn’t in the mood for this banter. She was not in the mood for dealing with Yelena and Adelynn. She especially was not in the mood to deal with Adelynn’s love of playing games.

“I’m here for a lovely date with my wife,” Yelena pointed out, rolling her eyes. “She insisted on this, Romanova.”

Adelynn smiled fondly and reached over, kissing Yelena briefly and stroking her cheek before looking back at Natasha. “We might not always get along-“

“Your father stabbed Clint and you went with him.” Natasha knew that Clint might have forgiven her for that, but she wouldn’t. And neither would Barney Barton. Barney would never know that Natasha went to Adelynn for information.

The Frenchwoman’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I had no choice. Clint knows that. So do I. And we’ve reconciled since then. He’s a friend.”

“You kidnapped Clint three years ago, Duquesne.”

“I needed his help and didn’t have his phone number.”

“Then you try another way to contact him, not go straight to kidnapping.”

Yelena gave a long-suffering sigh. “I married a strange woman.”

“You love me and you know it.” Adelynn smirked brightly, though her attention turned back to Natasha a few moments later. Her face lost its fun edge as she sighed, shaking her head and turning her attention completely back to Natasha.

“He’s alive. I have confirmation of that much. He’s being held in a HYDRA-run prison until they have time and someone with skill enough to convert him to their cause.” Adelynn looked back over at Natasha, leaning back in her seat. “I would say you might have a few more months before it’s too late. But this prison is going to be well-hidden. And very well-guarded.”

Natasha nodded. She watched as Adelynn reached under the table, pulling a thick file over towards her. Natasha took it but did not open it, instead letting her fingers slide over it. “That won’t be an easy job,” Adelynn noted. “But not impossible for someone who fought off an alien invasion.”

There was one part of that she was still concerned about. “You mentioned conversion. You mean brainwashing?”

Adelynn nodded. “It's called the Faustus Method. Developed by a psychologist in the forties named Doctor Fennhoff. A very dangerous, very strong method only made stronger with HYDRA and SHIELD’s technology.” She sighed before looking back over and mentioning, “I’m sure more than one of your HYDRA moles was not one willingly.”

She briefly wondered if Sitwell was one of them. If Sitwell, who’d been a good man once upon a time, who’d stubbornly stuck to face traces to try and find some sign of Clint when he’d been missing, had been a HYDRA mole unwillingly. Maybe that helped with the memory of a man she’d once thought was a good person.

Adelynn frowned, eyes flickering back to Natasha as she sipped at her rosé wine. “Clint is a stubborn man. And brainwashing works better on the weak-willed.” The attempt at reassurance was weak, but Natasha knew Adelynn was trying at least.

And Clint was the most stubborn bastard she knew. “Doesn’t mean it won’t hurt him.”

“From what I understood, it took near literal magic the last time.” Adelynn’s tone was stubborn, as if she herself was clinging to hope. “And magic is different than psychology.”

Natasha didn’t reply, merely looking back down at the file before slipping it into her bag. She sighed, tapping her fingers against it. “I do appreciate you helping with this,” she mentioned.

Adelynn blinked in surprise. “Oh, it wasn’t me. This was all Yelena.”

That was a surprise. Natasha looked sharply at the one who’d once been her rival, green eyes narrowed suspiciously. Yelena shot Adelynn a death glare, downing the rest of the wine in the cup before pouring more for herself. Adelynn looked almost pleased she’d let that secret out, watching the two of them with bright amusement deep in her brown eyes.

“And what do you get from this?” Natasha asked Yelena. “You have no reason to help me or Clint.”

The Russian blonde shook her head, gesturing towards her. “My intelligence networks found information for her alone,” she explained, no shame in her voice as she gestured towards Adelynn.

The Frenchwoman only smiled. “And because she wanted to get back at HYDRA.”

“So don’t think I did this out of any friendship, Natalia. I did this to get back at an organization that made my life hell.” Yelena turned back to Natasha, eyes blazing with anger. “Burn them down along the way.”

What was the old saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Yelena might not be her enemy or her friend, but she wanted to see HYDRA dead as much as Natasha did. That made her trustworthy and useful, at least for now.

“Thank you. Both of us.” Natasha stood up carefully, balancing her bag gracefully. “Enjoy your meal. And your vacation.”

“Oh, we will.” Adelynn raised her glass across to Natasha before adding, “Let me know when you find him. Tell him he’s more than welcome to take a trip to France. You both need a good vacation.”

Yelena and Natasha exchanged a look before the redhead slipped away, heading back through the restaurant and to the bar across the street. The file felt heavy in her bag, but it was a chance. It was a chance to save him. It was so much more than she and Kate had twelve hours ago. It was hope, a feeling Natasha still felt was strange, but it was enough to get her across the street and to the bar. As she walked to Kate, her hand went to the arrow necklace around her throat.

They would find him. She had faith in that.

Kate was waiting in a booth, food in front of her and a half finished beer in her hand. “So?” she asked eagerly, sitting up. She watched as Natasha opened the file, holding the first page of it in hand. “What did she give us?”

And as Natasha looked down at the picture of Clint, of him in the yard of a prison, she simply stated, “She gave us a way to him.”

* * *

 

 After the wake, Steve and Sam left Colleen’s house for the half-hour drive back to Sam's house. Sam was eager to be able to spend a few nights in his own bed, and Steve couldn't lie and say that he wasn't excited not to be in another rat-infested motel. They’d only be staying two days more. Sam wanted to do a few quick errands while they were around the DC area, and Steve knew that he needed to clear his head before he went back on the hunt.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk, but you know I’m here if you need to, right?” Sam asked when they were back in the house, Sam tugging off his suit jacket.

Steve didn’t respond as he set the bag of takeout food they’d grabbed on the coffee table. “I know,” he said simply. He undid his tie carefully, dropping it on his bed before looking back. “I think I just need time to process it.”

And he didn’t know how long it would take. He hadn’t thought it possible back when the Triskelion fell, but he somehow felt worse. The only link left to his past was Bucky, and he was god knew where running around, burning HYDRA bases to the ground and killing anyone who got in his way. Everyone dead so far was HYDRA-affiliated, but Steve was terrified for the day that Bucky killed an innocent.

Sam said it once before. _I don’t think he’s the kind you save. He’s the kind you stop_.

Steve was beyond terrified that he was going to slip away from the former and end up as the latter, and he knew that there was no way he could handle that.

“There's no right way to process grief, Steve,” Sam pointed out as he flopped down onto the couch. He pulled his phone from his pocket, his eyes scanning over it carefully.

Steve managed to crack a very weak smile. “Is that my friend Sam or the counselor Sam?”

“You’re lucky enough to get both in your life.”

Steve chuckled in response, glancing back over towards him when he saw Sam sit up sharply, his eyes wide. “Is everything okay?” the super soldier asked. He was so used to everything going wrong at once that he was sure that something else was happening.

“Nothing bad,” Sam assured him, raising his hand over to him. He looked conflicted before saying, “A friend of mine wants to meet up.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, surprised by that. “That’s good. You deserve a break, Sam. I’ll be okay here alone.”

“It’s not that…” Sam took a deep breath, shaking his head before looking back. “You remember your doctor? Doctor Stiles? She’s Clint’s brother’s sister-in-law? We talked in the hospital. She gave me her number. We’ve been texting since then…”

“I know you have, you get a dumb grin on your face every time you text her.”

Sam scowled. “I do not.”

“You do, but that’s not the point. What’s the issue…” Steve looked over at him, his eyes widening when he realized exactly what was going on, what Sam meant when he meant that the situation wasn’t as simple as that. “Oh my god. You have a date with her.”

Sam’s face reddened as he shook his head. “Not a complete date. Yeah, we’ve been texting a lot-“

“At least daily.” Even with how distracted he’d been regarding their hunt for Bucky, he’d noticed Sam texting Mia a lot. And Sam did get a stupid grin on his face every time he talked to Mia.

Sam shot him a death glare. “I feel bad calling it a date when we just went to a funeral, Steve.”

Steve hadn’t thought about it that way. He shook his head before saying, “Sam, this… you’ve put your life on hold so much to help me find Bucky. You deserve this. And from what I’ve heard from you about Mia, she deserves it too.” He took a deep breath before saying, “This is me telling you I’m happy for you, Sam. Go and have a good date. Play pool with her. Maybe you could actually beat her.”

Sam snorted. “Just because you have practice with that damned shield doesn’t mean you’re better at me than pool.”

“No, the fact that I’m better than you at pool means I’m better at you at pool.”

The gentle hit on his shoulder was almost a relief, the fact that Sam could joke around with him and not treat him like he was made completely of glass. “I’ll text you during it, and if you don’t want to be alone anymore, you say that. Mia will understand,” Sam pointed out. He sat down carefully at the couch to finish up his food. “You’re sure, Steve?”

“It might be nice to have some alone time. Maybe catch up on one of the movies on my list.” Alone time might help him process this loss, this goodbye.

Sam didn’t look completely convinced, but took a large bite into his burger as Steve unwrapped his chicken sandwich. They’d been spending all of their time together over the past few months, and he knew that they could both desperately use some alone time. He felt guilty about Sam leaving everything in his life behind, and the fact that he was going out for himself, with someone he clearly liked, was a positive for Steve as well.

Steve’s phone buzzed at that instant. He was never going to get used to that damned thing vibrating in his pocket, but the people who had his number were too important to ignore. All of the Avengers, Sam, Sharon, people that he knew would not contact him unless they severely needed him.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t surprised at the message he saw, from Sharon.

_Hey, I really don’t want to be alone right now and I’m sorry to bother you, but could we talk? I’m in the same apartment I was in before. Thanks._

The fact that Sharon was openly asking for him to come over was a surprise in and of itself. Everything he’d figured out about Sharon told him that she was not one to ask for help, even when she needed it. And she definitely wasn’t someone who asked for company when grieving. But then again, this was a deeper grief. This was the grief of someone that mattered to them both.

“I might actually be going myself,” Steve murmured. He handed his phone to Sam, who read through the message and winced in sympathy.

“Got to be hard,” he noted, finishing up his burger before standing up, tugging his shirt off of him. “Losing a family member is hard. And from what she and I chatted about, she’s lost more than a few of them.”

And Steve could understand that grief. He typed out a reply immediately. _I’ll be there in an hour_.

There wasn’t a reply, though there was the small script underneath the text that indicated the message was read. Steve slipped the phone back into his pocket before looking back at Sam. “I’m going,” he admitted. “I just… I think I need to talk to someone about this. Not bottle it up like I have been about Bucky.”

“Grief’s easier to carry when you’re not the only one lifting it,” Sam pointed out. “And you’re both grieving someone who meant a lot to you. Supporting each other might help.”

“Maybe.” He was going to need to change out of this suit though. Steve moved to his bag of clothes before adding, “Have fun on your date.”

Sam only smirked. “Oh, I will. It’s gonna be great. I’m gonna beat her at pool and everything.” He patted Steve’s shoulder. “Seriously though, you call me if you need it. And reply to me when I text you.”

He really did have some good friends. “I will Sam, thank you.”

“Always. Now if you excuse me, I have a date I’ve been waiting for to get ready for.” He slipped into the bathroom to freshen up, and Steve smiled softly. He just hoped that this visit would help them both in this grief. Peggy would have wanted that.

* * *

 

Steve hadn’t been back to his old apartment since a few days after the fall of the Triskelion. The building was the same as he remembered. Several floors, laundry in the basement, abysmal parking. But living there wasn’t the worst thing ever. The apartment was bigger than the one he’d once shared with Bucky in Brooklyn, all those years ago.

By the time he turned to the apartment after his hospital stay, it’d been ransacked. First by HYDRA disguised as SHIELD, by the CIA, by every organization he could think of. Only a few things remained. He was relieved his sketchbook and a few personal belongings were left alone. All of those personal belongings were now packed into a few boxes, kept in the closet at Sam’s house in DC.

He let himself in, sighing as he made it up to the floor he and Sharon once shared. His eyes flickered to his old apartment door, repaired and remade, and he shook his head. It felt like a life time since that night, and it was hard to believe it’d barely been a few months.

“Sharon?” he called, knocking gently on the door. “Sharon, it’s Steve.”

There wasn’t a reply, and Steve frowned slightly before trying the doorknob. It was unlocked. He shook his head, opening the door and coming in quietly, looking around. “Sharon?” he called again, his voice low. “Sharon?”

He really hoped she was okay. He should have called her after he texted her back. Something was wrong, that much was clear, considering that Sharon was enough of a spy that she would never leave the door unlocked like that. Steve reached for his phone, eyes narrowed. He should have brought the shield instead of leaving it in the hotel room.

“Sharon?” he called out.

He heard a loud thud, followed by a cry of pain. And then he heard the scream.

“Steve, look out!”

Steve looked up sharply when he heard Sharon’s voice and dove, avoiding something coming from behind him. He caught a glimpse of blonde hair near the ground, saw her fighting back, and Steve did the same, grabbing a chair and slamming it into the HYDRA agent nearby.

A redhead woman lunged at him with a knife, and Steve slammed his shoulder into her, knocking her over the couch and onto the ground. The knife cluttered against the floor, and Sharon grabbed it, slamming the knife blade first into the thigh of the HYDRA agent attacking her. The HYDRA agent cried out in pain.

Steve moved back to his feet, dodging a punch from the HYDRA agent coming at him again. This was a trap. They’d gotten Sharon’s phone somehow and used her as bait and now they were both in trouble. They’d been watching the funeral, they must have known that they’d been talking.

He saw the redhead aim the gun towards Sharon, and he shouted a warning.

The warning came too late. The gun went off, and Sharon cried out in pain and went down hard, blood coming from her shoulder.

It was enough of a distraction for one of the HYDRA agents to lunge forward and stab a needle into Steve’s arm. A jolt of pain ran through his entire body, and Steve gasped. Steve lashed out, kicking hard at whoever was nearby. The HYDRA agent was sent across the room, slamming into the opposite wall. He didn’t get up.

His ears were ringing. There was something in that needle, that much was obvious, and he already felt as though he was about to pass out. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong. He barely felt the edge of a taser against his back, shouting at the feeling of electricity shooting through him. He tried to backhand behind him, but couldn't tell whether he scored a hit or not. Everything was blurry.

Steve’s hand stumbled trying to grab the counter, and he went down, gasping slightly at the feeling in his head. Everything felt muffled. His ears were ringing like a bell, and he felt as though he were about to throw up. He hadn't felt this sick since before the serum. He stumbled to the ground, grabbing back onto a chair before he forced himself up, blue eyes enraged as he finally got a look at the room.

He saw Sharon then – her shoulder bloodied from a gunshot wound, her hands pressing against it the best she could, and her hair a mess. What Steve was most drawn to, however, was the gun at the back of her head, held by a HYDRA agent, not to mention the absolutely livid look on her face.

“Are you okay?” Steve was horrified to realize that his words were already slurring.

“Fine,” Sharon replied, gritting her teeth angrily. She glared across at the redhead, who’d gotten back to her feet and was clearly pleased to see Steve stumbling. "You?"

"What-" Steve's eyes flickered to the redhead. "Who-"

“Oh, don't worry, Captain. It was a bit of a test to get a sedative that would work on a super soldier, but we’ve had someone to test it on for a few decades now,” the redhead explained, sounding almost excited. Steve heard the Australian accent immediately, and filed it away in his memory. He had to remember who she was when they got out of this.

Because they were getting out of this. Steve wouldn’t accept any other alternative.

“Who the hell are you?” Steve demanded, grateful he could get a full sentence out.

There was a groan of pain, and Steve’s blue eyes flickered to where Sharon had been forced to her knees, the gun pressing harder into back of her head. There was a deep cut on her head, blood sluggishly coming from it. The cut looked at least a bit older than the gunshot wound. At the very least, it looked as though the gunshot wound and the cut on her forehead were the only injuries she'd received.

“She’s the bitch from the hospital,” Sharon spat, brown eyes glaring across at the redhead. “The one who tried to kill you.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you remember me, Agent 13.” The redhead smiled. She turned her attention back to Steve. “My name’s Thea, Captain. You knew my grandfather.”

Steve stared at her, his blue eyes narrowed. She said he knew his grandfather, but he could not figure out from where. She was clearly convinced that he would be able to figure it from her looks alone.

And then he recognized those dark eyes, the cruel glint behind them, and the seemingly assured victory they celebrated.

His stomach flipped in horror as he did indeed recognize her. His blue eyes widened and his jaw went slack as he stared at her. There was no way. There was never any sign of him having a child. But he remembered a woman, years ago, who’d played a fearful hostage and then ran after nearly killing Dugan and Morita. A woman they’d never seen or heard from again until they realized she was an ally of Schmidt the entire time.

A woman with red hair.

“Schmidt.” Steve tried to lung for her. His body failed him in that moment, sending him hard to the ground. “You’re Schmidt’s granddaughter.”

Sharon’s jaw dropped as she stared over at Thea, the horror on her own face indicating that she’d realized just how bad this was going to be. “Fuck,” she muttered, shaking her head. “ _Fuck_.”

That seemed to be an accurate representation of this entire situation.

“What the hell do you want?” Steve demanded, his voice slurring as his eyes fluttered. He was going to pass out sooner rather than later, and he knew that whatever happened next, it wasn’t going to go well. This was so much worse than he thought it was going to be, and he had no idea how they were going to get out of this alive.

Thea only took a step back, raising her hands slightly. “You’ll pass out soon, Captain. But don’t worry. We’re going to have lots of fun.” She nodded at the man holding the gun to Sharon’s head.

He was terrified for a moment that it was going to be an execution. “No-“

To his immense relief, the HYDRA agent only slammed the gun against Sharon’s head. The blonde agent was unconscious before she hit the ground, her entire body going limp. The HYDRA agent bent down and restrained her feet and ankles with zip ties, making sure she couldn’t move.

“What, you thought we were going to kill her?” Schmidt wondered, looking back at Steve. “Oh, no. She’s far too useful for that. We need a test subject for our new toys, after all.”

Steve tried to lunge at her again. “You’re not gonna get away with this. People will come looking for us.”

Schmidt only smiled back at him, tilting her head. She moved towards him, pulling his phone from his pocket. Steve caught a glimpse of an unread text from Sam on the front screen. Schmidt ignored it, merely setting the phone on the ground and stomping onto it, the high heel of it shattering the screen. Steve caught a glimpse of Sharon’s phone already shattered on the ground.

“I don’t need much time, Captain. Just enough. Enjoy your nap. We’ll have fun when you wake up,” she promised, reaching over and stroking his hair. It was the last thing that Steve felt.

As he passed out into dark oblivious, Steve just hoped that someone would realize they were missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Adelynn Duquesne** \- Clémence Poésy  
>  **Yelena Belova** \- Yvonne Strahovski  
>  **Thea Schmidt** \- Aya Cash
> 
> In 616 canon, Sinthea Schmidt is the Red Skull's daughter. For the purposes of the MCU's timeline and Set the World on Fire, she's instead the Red Skull's granddaughter, and goes by Thea. Adelynn and Yelena are both 616 canon as well, though my interpretations of them. A young Adelynn appeared previously in We're Going Down Swinging.
> 
> The next update will come in three days, where we head into some fun territory. Thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a realization. Steve awakens. Natasha calls for backup.

Sam hadn’t expected a date when he got back to DC, but he ended up getting one anyway. Having one in the pipeline for almost three months was a long wait, but he was glad for it. And it was almost more fun when they’d been looking forward to it.

The first few texts were simply checking up on each other. They lead to a game of questions, getting to know each other. From there, they’d been texting every day, calling when they had the chance, joined by the occasional picture. Sam Wilson found that Mia Stiles was someone he truly wanted to get to know better, and considering that he’d last dated before Afghanistan, he was surprised to be so into his first relationship since then.

Perhaps what helped the most was that Mia understood the world of superheroes and spies that Sam was finding himself drawn into. She understood this life. And that was a huge help.

As it turned out, they had far more in common than the fact that some of their closest friends were superheroes.

“I still can’t believe we have the same favorite bar and never met each other,” Mia laughed as she stole another of his fries. “I’m here like every Wednesday night for trivia. A bunch of the doctors go for it.”

Even in the dim bar light, with her hair tied up and a simple graphic t-shirt with a cactus on it, she was pretty. And her smile was prettier, her laugh infectious, and Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. He half hoped this night wasn’t going to end, but he knew it was.

He just had to make sure they had a second date in their future.

“You see, I never go to trivia. It’s too loud for me,” Sam explained, grinning. He was glad he’d gone tonight. He was still worried about Steve, and he was still going to check on him, but he was having a good time and desperately needed this night. “I am here on Sundays for _Game of Thrones_.”

“And I watch that in my PJs on my couch,” Mia admitted, smirking slightly. “I prefer people don’t see me crying over fictional characters in public.”

“Are they comfy pajamas?” Sam teased. He’d been worried their ease with each other over the phone and text wouldn’t translate well in person. To his relief, it did.

“What other type are there?” Mia moved on the other side of the pool table, eyes narrowing slightly before she lined up the cue. “You know, maybe we should switch. You come with me to trivia; I go with you to the _Game of Thrones_ night. When you get back to DC, I mean.”

That was as open an invitation for a second and even third date that Sam could expect. And they hadn’t even been on this first date for longer than an hour. “I’d like that a lot. I’ve got a lot of random trivia in my head,” Sam admitted.

“And I’m a lot of fun to watch fictional shows with.” She hit the ball a second later, sending two balls into the holes with a ricochet. She beamed as she straightened. “Careful, Wilson, I’m kicking your ass.”

“Yeah, but I kicked your ass in foosball. That’s the only sport that matters.” Sam laughed, moving back to his table and checking his phone.

No missed message indicator rested on his front screen. There were no messages from Steve. He’d texted him multiple times over the last hour, and he’d responded up until a few minutes ago. He frowned, texting again and giving it a few seconds.

This time, there was no text below that stated the message was delivered.

There were a million explanations as to why Steve wouldn’t have texted him back. He might be talking with Sharon. His phone might have died. He might not have noticed that he received a text at all. But Steve would have felt his phone vibrate. He never let his phone die once in the time that Sam knew him. And even if he was talking to Sharon, he would have mentioned his and Sam’s system to make sure the other was safe.

Sam stared down at his phone, trying to decide what the hell he could do. He could try and call him, but he doubted that would get an answer if the text message hadn’t gotten through. He didn’t notice Mia watching him, and didn’t notice the concern that crossed against her face.

“Everything okay?” Mia was leaning on the pool table, a deep frown on her face. “You seem worried.”

Sam didn’t know whether to say it. But he knew that being honest with her was the best option. “Steve hasn’t texted me back,” he admitted. “We have a system. Reply within a few minutes or something’s seriously wrong. No texts back from him, and the one hasn’t delivered.”

“Do you think something’s wrong?” she asked, frowning. He was relieved that she was taking him seriously. “That it isn’t a dead phone or something?”

Sam nodded. “If I learned anything overseas, it was to trust my gut. Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong, Mia, and I think Steve might be in trouble. He would have texted me back by now, we’ve got that system. You need one when you go up against HYDRA. We always text back. Especially on a night like tonight.”

Mia looked thoughtful, and she shook her head before pulling her phone out. She tapped her foot as she scrolled to a number, putting her phone to her ear and waiting. Mia’s face lit up instantly as someone answered on the other line.

“Hey, Natasha, it’s Mia,” she said, looking back over at Sam. “I’m with Sam and –“ A pause. “Yes, it’s a date, but focus, he thinks that Steve might be in trouble.” A second, longer pause. “No, he hasn’t texted Sam back since he left to go see someone earlier-“

“Sharon,” Sam supplied. Maybe his luck was turning around if Mia had Natasha’s actual number and the actual spy in question on the line. Maybe this wasn’t going to turn into a deep shit show. Maybe Steve and Sharon were fine and Steve’s phone was simply dead.

He knew that they weren’t that lucky.

“Since Steve went to go see Sharon earlier,” Mia corrected, pausing when she heard whatever Natasha said. She pulled the phone from her ear and held it out to Sam. “She wants to talk to you.”

Sam shot Mia a grateful look. “You’re my new favorite person,” he said simply, feeling glad that that comment got a beaming smile directed straight at him. She really did have a pretty smile.

“So what exactly is going on?” Natasha demanded when he got on the phone. If anyone could figure out where Steve and Sharon were, it would be Natasha. “Mia said that Steve went to see Sharon and that you don’t know where he is now?”

Sam sighed, sitting back down at the table. Mia sat in her own seat, watching him carefully. “Sharon texted him saying that she didn’t want to be alone and needed to talk.”

Natasha’s voice took on a slight edge of alarm. “That’s the first warning sign. When Sharon’s hurting, she needs to be alone. It’s how she processes things. When the Triskelion fell, she spent a few days alone after what happened.”

“Shit,” Sam muttered, looking back towards Mia. Mia raised an eyebrow, sipping at her drink carefully as she watched Sam’s face. “You think it might have been a trap, Nat?”

“I don’t know what it might be, but I know that something’s wrong. Do you know where they were going?” Natasha was taking this seriously. He wasn’t alone in dealing with this. That was more of a relief than Sam could have ever said.

“Sharon’s apartment. The one across the hall from where Steve lived,” Sam reported. He was glad Steve let him read the text Sharon sent him earlier. Otherwise they’d be screwed.

“Meet me there. I’ll be there in twenty. Do not go in without me.”

Natasha hung up, and Sam realized that this was the end of his date. Well, this was fun while it lasted. At least he got a partial date. “I’ve got to go, we need to find Steve,” Sam explained. “I’m sorry for interrupting it. I had a great time, Mia, I did.”

“Don’t apologize, Sam. This is important. I’ll come along,” Mia said, tugging her brown suede jacket on her shoulders. “If one of them is hurt, you’re gonna need a doctor. There’s a good kit in my trunk, enough that I could take care of moderate injuries.”

“You’re sure?” Sam asked, frowning over at her. “This is HYDRA, Mia. And if they’ve got something that can take Captain America and a fully trained SHIELD agent down, it’s not going to be pretty.”

Mia shot her a look. “I’m sure,” she assured him. “Besides, it’ll be fun.” She paused before holding her purse over to him. He was half surprised to see the gun in there. “My dad is a hunter. My mom is in the CIA. My brother-in-law was in the military. And Clint takes me to the range each year to make sure my skills are up to date.”

Sam gave a deep sigh before looking back over at her. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

She smiled cheerfully. “See, you already know me so well.” She readjusted her purse over her shoulder and said, “C’mon, Wilson. That apartment isn’t too far from us. We can meet them there.”

* * *

 

 Mia was in fact right, and the apartment was less than twenty minutes away. Natasha was outside at the street level parking when they arrived. Kate was with her as well, the dark-haired teen fiddling with her bow. Sam was half surprised they were still in DC hours after the funeral, but he wasn’t going to question dumb luck when it got him and Mia some backup in checking to make sure that Steve was okay.

And if the worst had happened like Sam thought it might have, Natasha would be an invaluable help in finding and getting him back.

“Did you look yet?” Sam asked, hurrying over. His breathing wasn’t too heavy from half jogging over from the bar. Mia was still at his side, crossing her arms against her chest when they made it to Kate and Natasha.

“Not yet, I’m about to go up now,” Natasha replied, not looking surprised to see Mia came with him. If anything, there was a smirk on her face from it. “Bishop, you and Stiles take a look around the building, see if you can find anything.”

“Skid marks, blood, things like that?” Kate asked. Sam shot her a look, and Kate raised her hands in a gesture of surrender and apology. “Yeah, I know, don’t mention the B word. You coming, Mia?”

Mia nodded in agreement, pulling her gun from her purse and clicking the safety off. “Yeah, I’m coming,” she confirmed simply. She looked back at Sam before following along with Kate. The two brunettes disappeared around the corner within a minute, and Natasha and Sam walked into the building.

“No elevator?” Sam asked, looking around.

“No. This building is a bit older, and the landlord is a cheapskate.” Natasha snorted. “Did Steve tell you about his elevator experience in the Triskelion?”

“No…” Sam said slowly. There’d talked about a lot of stuff over the past few months, but not much of the Triskelion incident. It was still a sore spot that Sam did not want to poke.

“Ask him next time.” Natasha lead the way up the first set of stairs, and Sam followed, holding onto the knife he’d taken to keeping in his boot. Running around the country with Steve Rogers, chasing HYDRA and the Winter Soldier, taught him how to handle

They were halfway up the first story’s stairs before Natasha glanced back at him. “You were on a date.” There was a look of clear amusement and satisfaction on her face. “With a very pretty girl.”

“Yes, I was on a date,” Sam confirmed, really wondering if this was happening. “Are you really interrogating me on a date when Steve might be missing?”

“Need something to talk about on the walk up.” Natasha smirked back down at him, red hair flipping as she checked around the next corner for any threat. “Was it a fun date?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was a very fun date. Can we focus now?”

“Ask Steve, I bring up people’s love lives on missions all the time. Mia’s sweet though. You two would be cute together.” Natasha paused just before the third floor, looking back at Sam and nodding. “This is it.”

Sam glanced towards the door, frowning when he saw that it was half open. “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not.” Natasha moved to the door, green eyes narrowed. She pushed it open and went in. Sam followed carefully behind her, keeping an eye on their six the entire time.

The apartment was a mess. And from what limited knowledge Sam had of Sharon Carter, her apartment would not normally be a mess.

There were bullet scars on the walls. Furniture was overturned. A chair laid in pieces on one side of the couch. Two cell phones laid in shattered pieces on the ground. There was clear evidence of a fight here, and Sam caught sight of a huge hole in the wall, about the size a person would make if they were thrown into it. Yeah, Steve had been there, and HYDRA most likely was too. Something had happened in here, and Sam realized that his gut was completely right.

“Sam.” Natasha’s voice was grim. “Look at this.”

Sam turned towards her, pausing when he saw the puddle on the ground. “Fuck…” He bent down carefully, examining it before glancing towards the dots on the couch behind them. “Nat, this is blood.”

“Someone was shot.” Natasha held up a bullet casing, green eyes looking back to him.

She moved to her feet, looking around carefully. “Someone used Sharon’s phone to contact Steve,” she guessed. She moved carefully over towards the wall with the hole in it. “Steve was ambushed here. He fought back and so did Sharon. Someone was shot, and from there, HYDRA was able to take them both.”

This was not good. This was not good at all. “We need to find them,” Sam said. “Now.”

Natasha only nodded, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “I’m calling Stark. And extra backup.” She looked back to Sam. “You know this is going to turn into a fight.”

“I know,” Sam confirmed. He stared down at the blood, at the shards of the phones, and swallowed. “I’m not letting that stop me.”

“Good.” Natasha’s frown deepened as she tilted her head. “Because whatever HYDRA is planning to do with Captain America in their custody, it isn’t good.”

* * *

 

He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep.

Except he couldn’t even call it sleep. He’d been knocked out by some type of sedative strong enough to take him out in minutes. His metabolism took care of sedative before it had an effect on him, but not this sedative. The fact that HYDRA had access to it was not a good sign.

Steve tried to move and realized he couldn’t. His eyes flickered to his ankles, to the familiar thick restraints he recognized from the van he’d been thrown in with Sam and Natasha during the mess in DC. Similar ones were on his arms, forcing him into an awkward position where he could get no leverage to attempt to break them. They were tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to break his wrist to get out of it. HYDRA had done their homework, and he was stuck here.

“Dammit,” Steve growled, leaning his head back as he tested the restraints again. They didn’t give an inch. He was not going to escape these bonds by strength alone.

“Rogers?”

Steve looked up sharply when he heard the voice, his heart nearly stopping when he remembered he hadn’t been alone in that apartment. He wasn’t the only person HYDRA took. “Sharon?” he demanded, his voice steady. “Sharon, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” the reply came. It was a bit dim, but still easily within earshot. He didn’t doubt that keeping them from seeing each other was a manipulation tactic. HYDRA hadn’t changed much in the past few decades. “What about you?”

“I’m not injured.” He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. HYDRA clearly had plans that demanded him to remain uninjured. Steve’s blue eyes widened when he remembered the events of their capture, of everything that happened. “You were shot.”

“They dressed the wound, so it’s not going to get infected at east,” Sharon assured him. He was sure he heard a wince in her voice, though it might have been his worry talking. “It’s not fun, but I’m not going to die from it.”

Steve shook his head, taking another deep breath. “I’m sorry you got pulled into this,” he apologized. “I thought it was you.”

“They were waiting for me when I got back. There were many of them, and I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to expect an attack,” Sharon explained. “And this isn’t your fault.”

“You were used as bait to drag me in, I call that my fault,” Steve argued. This was his fault. Sharon was in HYDRA captivity with him because of him, because HYDRA noticed them talking. She was in danger; she’d been shot, because of him.

“And I call bullshit on it being you fault. They would have gone after me eventually anyway.” Sharon winced, leaning her head back. “I have a dangerous last name and I stood up against Rumlow. This was just a convenient excuse for them. Kill two birds with one stone.”

Steve winced as he looked back towards the sound of her voice. “I’m not gonna be able to get out of these restraints. If you get a chance, you find a way out and you run.”

“Not without you.”

The echo of another person saying that on the other side of a fiery abyss came to his mind, and Steve pushed the memory away. “We’re getting out of here,” he promised. “We’re gonna get out of here, Sharon.”

“Oh, I know,” Sharon assured him, sounding almost cheerful. “You and I are too stubborn to die in HYDRA captivity.”

Steve smirked slightly. “Guess stubbornness has its advantages.” He looked up sharply when he heard distant footsteps. “You hear that?”

“Good, our hosts are here. I want to complain about the accommodations anyway. This stone doesn’t go with the metal bars.” He snorted slightly at her glib, his eyes narrowing when he saw Schmidt herself walking in front of his cell.

Her red hair was tied back, and there was an honest grin on her face. She looked almost pretty in her joy, other than the absolutely ugly glint in her brown eyes. Now that he knew the truth of who she was, it was impossible not to see the resemblance along her eyes, along that self-assured, smug victory that made his blood boil.

The Howling Commandos had their legacy, their children and grandchildren. Why was it such a surprise to him that Schmidt had his own?

“I didn’t know Schmidt had children,” Steve mentioned, his voice hard as he glared across at her. “Seems like something he would have bragged about.”

Thea shook her head. “He didn’t. Not when you were around. My grandmother was pregnant with my father when the Tesseract killed him.” Thea shrugged lightly, clearly unconcerned with talking about her grandfather’s death. “Probably for the best. He didn’t seem to be a fatherly man.”

“Your grandmother was the woman from the castle,” Steve guessed. Having all the information made it more real, and he took a deep breath as he tried to remember the name. “Ophelia.”

“Ophelia Sarkissian, yes. Nearly killed two Howling Commandos,” Thea noted. She shot a nod of thanks at the henchman who brought over a cheer, sitting on it backwards. She tilted her head with a fond smile. “I always liked that story the best.”

Steve scoffed slightly. “And now you’re with HYDRA just like him. Seems like a family business.”

Thea gestured down the hall towards what he assumed was Sharon’s cell. “Just as SHIELD is a Carter family business. HYDRA is a Schmidt family business. At least most of the time.”

Her word choice made Steve frown as he watched her. _Most of the time_. There was something there, some resentment or anger, but it wasn’t something that he could use at the moment. It was something he could remember though, something that might give them more information on HYDRA in the long-run. He just had to remember it.

Thea gestured towards the door before explaining, “I’m going to make it very clear for you, Captain Rogers. Agent Carter is alive and well. Other than a gunshot wound, she hasn’t been injured. She’ll remain that way as long as you behave and don’t act against us here. Otherwise…”

She gestured towards an agent, and Steve heard the telltale sound of a taser being charged. Sharon’s yell of pain cut through the air, and Steve tried to lunge for Thea, blue eyes blazing.

“As we can see, Captain Rogers, we’re very serious about this,” Thea went on, completely ignoring the death glare shot her way, the anger and rage in his eyes that almost seemed to amuse her more than anything else. “So cooperate, and Agent Carter remains unharmed.”

“I’ll cooperate,” Steve spat, leaning his head back, glaring at her. “But we’re getting out of this. And when we do-“

“Oh, I know, you’ll both kill me,” Thea deadpanned, rolling her eyes. “Probably in some painful way, I’m guessing, all of that fun.”

“No, I’ll kill you. Rogers can spit on your corpse,” Sharon’s voice came out, a savage shout hoarse from her earlier scream.

“Charming, Agent Carter,” The called, smirking slightly. She held open the cell door, and a doctor walked in. The sight of multiple empty needles nearly made his stomach drop when he realized what they were planning. His worst fears were confirmed with a single sentence.

“We’ll just need some of your blood, Captain Rogers.”

* * *

 

Though Sam complained he was very tired of motels, Natasha rented two adjoining rooms for what they were now calling Operation Blond Rescue. Kate came up with the name, and was very proud of it, and when Sam raised protests about the name, Kate only rolled her eyes in a way Natasha knew by heart.

They found the motel outside of DC, with a large parking lot and a pool by their room. Natasha stopped at a storage locker in town, one that she explained was Clint’s, and brought back enough supplies that Sam was convinced that they could take down a small army base. Considering that this was HYDRA they were dealing with, there was every chance that they were going to need to take down a small army base.

All they had to do now was wait for backup.

“Who exactly are we waiting for?” Sam asked. He’d asked that at least three times in the last hour, with the impatience of a man not trained for spy work.

He and Natasha sat outside of the motel, underneath an umbrella-shadowed table at the poolside. Natasha kept an eye on the parking lot, green eyes patient as she waited for some sign only she knew to look for. It’d been nearly an hour of waiting, and Sam was anxious, tapping his foot against the concrete ground. Kate was busy trying to get in touch with someone, trying to find any news of a HYDRA base nearby. Mia went on a run to a nearby store to grab more supplies for any potential injuries.

“Like I said, backup.” She looked at Sam before pointing out, “You, me, and Kate does not a strike team make. And Mia is not coming for the assault. She’ll stay here and wait for injuries.”

“So who else can we trust? Stark? Because he’s loud and if we make too much noise, they might kill Steve and Sharon.” And that was the last thing any of them wanted. Natasha knew that better than anyone.

“No. Stark is off trying to find a location, and I have someone searching too.” She checked her email for any sign of that second contact, and scowled when there was no waiting message. “Whenever she gets her head out of her ass and figures it out, at least.”

Sam shot her a look, muttering to himself before looking up. “Someone’s coming,” he mentioned, gesturing at a black SUV pulling into the parking lot.

“About time they showed up,” Natasha muttered, frowning as she stared intently at the newly painted SUV. “That’s an awful paint job to cover the eagle. I’ll have to give her shit for that.”

The SUV pulled up to the motel, into an open spot near the pool. An Asian woman dressed in black pants and a leather jacket opened the driver’s side door. From the passenger’s side came a young man in similar black pants and clothing, following closely by a girl, her bangs messy in the slight breeze and a canvas bag over her shoulder. The older woman looked calm, the man looked half impressed, and the young woman looked as though she was a half a minute away from squealing.

Natasha moved to her feet, meeting them at the entrance of the pool. Sam followed closely behind, watching the introductions carefully. If Natasha trusted these people, he did. And he, Natasha, and Kate couldn’t take down a base alone.

“Thanks for coming,” she greeted, taking the older woman’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “It’s been a while, Mel.”

“Glad you’re alive,” Melinda replied, studying Natasha carefully before looking back over at Sam. Natasha knew her well enough to see the open relief at the confirmation of her survival. “I figured you wouldn’t call unless you were desperate.”

“Desperate is one word for it. Sam Wilson, Melinda May,” Natasha introduced with what he realized was a genuine smile. “Melinda May is one of the best that SHIELD had. Melinda, Sam was one of the ones fighting at the Triskelion.” She glanced at the two younger agents. “I don’t know these ones.”

“This is Agent Antoine Triplett-“ Melinda introduced, gesturing to the man.      

“Call me Trip.” The man raised his hand, shooting her an almost cheerful grin. Sam took it and shook it firmly, and Natasha nodded simply at him. “Nice to meet you,” Trip mentioned to Sam. “The wings were impressive.”

Sam smiled. Any compliment to the wings was a great way to get to his good side. “Nice to meet you too, man.”

Melinda nodded at the younger woman carrying a laptop. “And this is Skye.”

“Just Skye. Nothing else.” The brunette was holding her laptop on her hip, and she was staring at Natasha in absolute wonder. “You’re an Avenger. Wow. You’re Natasha fucking Romanoff.”

Melinda didn’t even blink. “Focus, Skye.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Skye shifted, and Sam smiled slightly, sharing an amused look with Trip. “Um, Nat said you were in touch with someone from the Rising Tide? I can hit the traffic and see if I can come up with anything else… at the very least, I have a direct line to Microchip.”

“We’ve got a motel room set as a base of operations,” Sam mentioned, gesturing towards the motel. “C’mon, we can get you set up there, we’ve got a doctor and a sharpshooter up there too.”

“Oh, yeah, legit mission time,” Skye noted, waving at May before she and Trip followed Sam. “So, how awesome is it in the air on those wings?”

The sounds of Sam chattering with Trip and Skye as they went to the second-floor motel room were all that remained as they walked away. Natasha looked almost amused before looking back over at Melinda.

“Coulson would have loved her,” Natasha mentioned. “She’s just the type of kid he would have adopted.”

There was an unreadable look on Melinda’s face for a slight second. “Coulson did have a tendency to adopt strays.”

“He passed that on to Clint, too. Just wait until you meet Bishop.” Coulson would have loved Bishop, and found it hilarious that Clint of course found the only other person in the world who had the bright idea to use arrows as a superhero.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Melinda mentioned, watching her carefully. “We lost too many people to HYDRA.”

Natasha noticed the change in subject, but chose not to comment on it. They had far too much to focus on anyway. “You too, Melinda. This… this might get ugly. And I’m glad I’ve got someone I trust behind me. We just need the location.” Her phone vibrated in warning of an unread message. A single unread email awaited her, the one she’d been waiting for.

_Location, map of facility, and computer system hack attached. You owe me one, Widow. – Microchip_

Natasha smiled. “And I’ve got that covered.” She patted Melinda’s shoulder cheerfully. “C’mon, Mel. Let’s go plan a rescue mission.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescue comes from several sources.

Steve wasn’t sure how much blood they took, but it was enough that even he felt woozy, and enough that he was very worried about what they were going to do with it.

With his blood, they could try and recreate the serum. They cause so much damage with a new serum, and Steve knew that they had to destroy the blood on the way out. Otherwise, HYDRA would be able to do whatever the hell they wanted with it.

Mercifully, HYDRA left him and Sharon alone after they took Steve’s blood, with only each other and the occasional drip from a leaking pipe in the cell between them as company. That of course left them plenty of time to stew in their own thoughts and try and plot some type of escape attempts. Sharon wasn’t giving up on providing attempt ideas at the least, though none seemed possible so far.

“They’ve got to feed us sooner or later,” Sharon pointed out.

Steve shook his head before remembering that she couldn’t see it. “If they wanted us alive for a long while, they’d just put IVs in us for nutrients. Less of a chance for escape. And that’s assuming they plan on keeping us alive.”

He could, however, practically hear her scowl. “The next time they take your blood you could try and make a break for it.”

“These restraints are strong, Sharon. I don’t have enough room to break out of them.” He could if he had more time, but he knew they had to be under surveillance. HYDRA, or at least this team that Schmidt was leading, weren’t stupid enough to just leave them alone.

“Then I’m out of ideas. Your turn, Cap.”

Steve grit his teeth, glaring back down at the restraints. He didn’t reply to Sharon as he took a deep breath, trying to move his body into a position where he might have enough leverage to figure out a way to escape. There had to be something. There was always a way out. He just had to find it.

“Sam would have realized we’re gone by now. He’ll contact Stark or Nat and they’ll find us,” he said, knowing that was true. “We just bide our time before then.”

“Steve, I don’t think either of us are particularly good at waiting here for rescue,” Sharon pointed out.

“I know we aren’t, but we don’t exactly have another choice.” Steve shook his head, looking up sharply when he heard footsteps approach. His eyes narrowed when he saw Thea leading a small group of agents down the hall, right towards Sharon’s cell.

He heard a door opening, and the clank of handcuffs being unlocked. A second later, the sound of a taser rang out once more, and Sharon cried out in pain. It went on for far longer, nearly a minute, and Steve lunged, trying to break the restraints through sheer willpower alone. They were doing something with her. They were stunning her and hurting her and he would not let that stand.

“Sharon?!” Steve called out, lunging and feeling his wrists burn with the tense pull of the metal cuffs. “Sharon!”

Sharon’s cries of pain died out moments later, and Steve growled as he tried once more to break out. It was useless. The cuffs were too sturdy and too strong for him to be able to break out completely. This time it was Sharon suffering for his failure.

Steve looked up sharply when he heard someone walking towards them. Sharon was being dragged out, barely conscious, and Steve growled again. “Stop it!” he demanded, watching as they carried her out. “She’s got nothing you want. There’s no reason to hurt her, I’m cooperating.”

“And we won’t be hurting her,” Schmidt assured him, leaning against the wall. She looked half amused by his reactions, judging by the smirk curling one side of her face. “She’s just going to be introduced to some new ideals.”

Steve glared at her. “You won’t win,” he promised simply. “I’m not going to let you.”

“I already won, Captain. And when we find Barnes, we’ll win again. And again. And again.” Thea walked over to him, bending down and pulling the cap out of another needle of sedative.

Steve hissed when she stabbed it into his arm, watching as the liquid was injected into his body. His head already felt fuzzy, and he knew that this was the same drug as before. He tried to lung at her again, to slam his head against hers, but he was too far off, and her laugh was yet another taunt that made his spine turn to ice.

“Goodnight, Captain Rogers,” Thea hummed, patting his head before standing up.

Steve tried to stay awake, lunging and fighting and pulling with everything he had. There had to be a way to break these cuffs. They had to be. He couldn’t accept any other alternative, not when that alternative was letting Sharon be tortured or killed or whatever the hell HYDRA was planning. He was not going to let them win. They’d won so many times already, and he was not going to let it keep happening. He was so tired of it. And he felt tired right now.

“No,” Steve mumbled, his head lolling back as his eyes fluttered shut. “Dammit, no…”

His last thought as he passed out for the second time in hours was that he had to stay awake to get her out of here.

* * *

 

As it turned out, the information sent by Microchip was delightfully accurate. Natasha almost missed competency in human beings. She had learned not to expect it when she’d been forced to rely on the freelance community since the fall of SHIELD. She’d completely taken for granted the competent staff that SHIELD had, and understood why Maria’s one condition at joining Stark was bringing in her choice of staff members.

“I always told Fury we should have recruited her,” Natasha mentioned. She waited outside the base, watching it carefully for the next truck to come in. That was going to be when they struck.

“She would have never agreed to join for good,” Melinda pointed out. She shot Natasha a deadpan look before adding, “She’s worse at working with people than Barton was.”

On the other side of the tree, hidden by a bush, Kate sniggered slightly. “He is pretty bad at that.”

Next to Kate, Sam rolled his eyes, clearly amazed that the three could banter this much while beginning a rescue mission for a former SHIELD agent and Captain America. He was even more surprised that the shield was strapped to his back, ready to be handed off to Steve to fight his way out.

“There’s a reason they’re friends.” Natasha pressed down on the comm in her ear. “Skye, you got anything?” she asked.

“Give me one second, I’m almost connected with their network.” The SHIELD SUV they’d brought along was bulletproof enough to work as a mobile base when it was hidden enough, and Skye was currently sitting in the backseat with her laptop, Trip in the driver’s seat and ready to go at a second’s notice. “Okay, I’m in. I’ve got security cameras.”

“Find Rogers and Carter, and then find their positions in the building.” She glanced at Melinda. “You’re good about going alone?”

Melinda nodded. “They’re not expecting us. And they’re especially not expecting me.” There was almost anticipation in Melinda’s voice. She’d lost just as much to HYDRA as Natasha had, she was sure her old friend was eager to get some payback.

Natasha turned her attention to their other two assailants. “Sam and Kate, you two are going to stick together. You’ll both oversee getting Rogers and Carter out of there. You find them, you break them out, and then all four of you get the hell out of there.”

Sam nodded in understanding before looking back at Kate. “You ready, partner?”

Kate grinned. “Damn right I am.”

Natasha looked down, seeing a truck head to the front gate of the base. “Everyone ready?” she asked, her voice low as she grabbed the gun off of her belt.

“Ready,” Sam confirmed. Melinda nodded, and Kate pulled her bow back, the string taunt and she aimed carefully.

Natasha looked over at Kate, nodding once. Kate smiled and let her arrow loose. It raced through the air, hitting the van easily. Once it was through the gates, the arrow exploded, sending the van up in flames as the HYDRA agent driving fled out of the front seat from the fire. Natasha moved instantly, heading down the bank and managing to get to the van, slamming the driver into the front bumper to knock him out.

A second arrow shot over her, downing the HYDRA agent running towards her. A knife flew over next, and she shot a grateful nod at Melinda. “Let’s go, everyone,” Natasha ordered, already making her way inside.

They split up at the entrance, Melinda going straight, Natasha going right, and Sam and Kate going left when directed to by Skye. Their comms were all on and connected, and Natasha hoped that they were going to get through this rescue mission without losing anyone else. They had the chance to escape completely, without any loses, and she was going to make damned sure that they did it.

They were getting Steve and Sharon back. Natasha didn’t leave her friends. And HYDRA would be given a warning to what happened when they fucked with the people she cared about. They would get a hint of what she would do to them when they found Clint.

The Red Room taught her to be thorough. And she would be more than thorough in the destruction of her enemies.

“So, I looked at the security footage, there was a redhead talking to Rogers. They shocked Carter and then this doctor with needles came in. The footage goes on a loop after that. They did something they didn’t want anyone to know. I’ve got no audio. But I’ve got their location.” Skye’s voice was clipped and informative, and Natasha was glad that they’d brought her along. She was clearly useful.

“Good job, Skye.” Dimly, she could hear the squeal of Skye telling Trip she’d been told good job by the Black Widow. She could almost hear Melinda roll her eyes.

Sam’s voice came over the comms a moment later, and Natasha realized the comment was directed towards her. “Think it’s the redhead from the hospital?” he asked. “She hasn’t shown up and we haven’t heard anything about her since.”

The thought had occurred to Natasha as well. “I don’t believe in coincidences,” she confirmed. “And I don’t doubt it’s her.”

“The evil redhead you mentioned? The evil Australian?” Kate asked.

“One in the same.”

“I don’t have audio, so I can’t confirm an accent, though Rogers is death glaring her,” Skye mentioned. “Falcon, Hawkeye, take a turn right… now. May, you’ve got at least two operatives on their way to you. Widow, man on your right in three, two, one…”

Natasha’s widow bites sparked as she lunged forward, pressing them hard into the neck of the large HYDRA operative who came near her. He went down easily, and Natasha again realized that she was going to need to find a way to kidnap or recruit Skye away from Melinda. She was incredibly useful and competent, and she truly missed competency in people other than herself.

She found the control room a moment later, frowning as she looked down at the monitors. “Skye, the security room is locked down,” Natasha reported. “Can you find any activity?”

“Give me a second.” She heard the distant sounds of furious typing over the comms, and ten seconds later, she reported, “There’s a helicopter taking off from the roof on the far side. The redhead got on it, but she’s alone. No Steve, no Sharon. They’re still in the base…” There was a pause. “I’m losing cameras. Fast. Something is taking them out faster than I can see. Including the ones at the cells. The loop is gone completely.”

“Who?” Sam demanded. “Who the hell would be taking out cameras?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s HYDRA. Someone doesn’t want to be seen. Don’t think it’s any of us, none of us are anywhere near it.” Skye sighed in frustration before adding, “I’ll keep trying to find them, everyone just… just move quickly.”

Natasha didn’t need to be told twice. They had information to steal, people to break out, and not a lot of time to do it.

Then again, she always had loved a challenge.

* * *

 

Steve came to with the feeling of something cold against his hands, the screech of tearing metal, and retreating footsteps.

He groaned as he lifted his head, trying to wake up completely. Either Schmidt put less sedative into him than the first time or his body was already becoming accustomed to it. Either way, he felt more awake than he did the first time, which was a good sign. Steve’s eyes flickered up as he saw someone clad in black slipping out of the cell.

His eyes moved instantly down to his now shattered restraints. Shards of metal were everywhere, and there were multiple cuts on both his wrist and on his ankles, but he was free. The restraints were gone, completely torn off by some unseen force. He didn’t know who could have done that until he looked up at where several of the larger shards were resting on the ground.

One had a clear handprint, curled into a mess with a strength that Steve knew could only come from a metal hand.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered, his blue eyes realizing exactly who else was in this HYDRA base.

He moved to his feet. His head spun for several seconds as he shook off the wooziness, forcing it away with sheer willpower. Steve breathed heavily for a few moments, looking up sharply when he heard footsteps. He grabbed the piece of sharp metal below, knowing it was the only weapon he had for the moment.

He had to find Sharon. He had to find them both in here.

Steve hurried into the hallway, freezing, when he saw multiple HYDRA guards on the ground. Each one of them was dead. Some had gunshot wounds to their chests. Others had their necks snapped, their heads lolling in an unnatural position. Someone killed them all without mercy, and the bodies around him only confirmed what he suspected.

He grabbed a knife from the ground and moved, hurrying out of the cell block and down the hall. Alarms were going off, loud and repetitive, and lights flashed in the hall. Steve caught sight of a HYDRA agent down the hall. The agent froze when he saw him out of his cell, looking like a deer in headlights.

Steve lunged before he could react, slamming his knee into his chest and knocking him down hard. The agent was unconscious before he hit the ground, the blow too much for him to withstand. Steve breathed heavily as he looked back down, eyes flickering back up as he heard more footsteps up ahead. He took a deep breath, readjusting the grip on the knife before lunging around the corner towards what he realized was a brunette female with a bow.

The brunette yelped as she jumped back. “Watch it, Cap!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. “Don’t stab the rescuer, it’s rude!”

“Bishop?” Steve demanded in surprise, his eyes widening when he saw Sam close behind. He lowered the knife instantly, staring at the two of them in complete relief and shock. “Sam? What the hell-“

“We’re here to rescue you.” Sam looked almost annoyed before adding, “Though you apparently got out of it alone.” Steve half jolted when he realized that Sam had a familiar shield on his back, one he hadn’t been so happy to see in years.

“Yeah, we’re clearly a few minutes too late. Is Carter still in there?” Kate asked, already heading down the hall towards where Steve’s cell was.

Steve grabbed onto her shoulder to stop her from heading there. “HYDRA took her out a while ago, I don’t know where they took her,” he explained. He shot Sam a grateful look when he handed the shield back to him. He didn’t have his uniform, but he felt far more comfortable with the shield back in his hand.

“Wait, HYDRA took her? For what?” Sam demanded, frowning as he watched Steve readjust the shield on his arm.

“Skye, we need a potential location on Carter, now. Anywhere there’s a lot of activity?” Kate demanded, her hand to her ear where Steve assumed a comm rested.

“Who is Skye?” Steve demanded as he threw the shield towards a HYDRA agent. He was thrown hard into the wall by the ricochet, and Steve caught shield easily as it came back. Sam only grinned, patting Steve’s arm lightly as he led the way down the next hall.

“Some backup that Natasha called. Former SHIELD team. She’s good, helped us to find you in the building,” Sam explained. “You’ll meet her on the outside.”

Kate wasn’t talking to either of them, instead listening carefully, her eyes narrowed intently. “Skye said that a room down the hall is using a lot of electricity. It’s the only lead we’ve got right now, this base isn’t too big. Sharon might be down there.” She gestured down the hall. “This way.”

It was a fight to get to the room. It was deeper in the heart of the HYDRA base, but between the three of them, they could manage it.

Sam kept an eye on their six, taking down anyone who tried to sneak up from them on behind. Spending the last few months on the road with Steve taught him even more about self-defense, to the point where he was sure he could take on most HYDRA agents. Kate took down anyone who came from a distance, with an accuracy Steve knew to be a natural talent. Add to that Steve’s skill with his shield and no one could stand in their way.

The room as indicated by Skye was luckily not too far away. There was no guard outside it, which struck Steve as slightly suspicious. Then again, this base was clearly in chaos with the assault, and Steve knew that HYDRA might not value Sharon as a hostage as much as the others.

He just hoped she was alive in there.

The door was locked, but one hit from the shield shattered it. Steve pushed the door open, praying that Sharon was inside. His stomach flipped as he saw exactly what was in the room.

Sharon was alive and in the room, restrained on some type of machine. Her eyes were held open by tiny hooks, her hands restrained above her head and her legs half dangling. A screen flickered in front of her, showing images and flashes of light repeatedly. She was still awake, still struggling, and from the gasp that Kate gave, Steve knew that she and Sam realized just how bad this was as well, whether this be torture or brainwashing or anything else.

He acted on instinct, throwing the shield into the screen on the far side of the hall. Perhaps it was a bit harder than it should, but he knew that whatever this was, it was not good, and even an hour or two of this would be too much. The screen shattered, shards flying all over the floor. Sharon started to struggle on the restraints even harder, almost revitalized by the fact that rescue had come.

“Sharon,” Steve said, his voice urgent as he moved over, untying the restraints as Sharon fell to her feet. “You alright?” he demanded, shaking his head as he looked back down at Sharon.

She shook her head thoroughly, not out of a reply, but trying to clear her head. “Fine. Just feel dizzy. Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t fun.” She stumbled slightly, blinking heavily, and Steve grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. “Maybe slightly more out of it than I thought…”

“We’ll get you checked out when we get out of here,” Sam promised. “Can you walk?”

Sharon nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, I’m good.” She took a hold of Steve’s arm to steady herself, taking a deep breath before taking the gun offered by Sam. “Let’s get out of here…”

Steve kept a hand on her back as they hurried out of the room. The escape route that Kate gave was free of any HYDRA agents, but the scene out in the front entrance was a mess.

Gunfire surrounded the area, and a black SUV squealed in from the nearby road. Someone shot from the SUV, taking down a few HYDRA agents standing in the way between the four of them and their exit. An Asian woman Steve didn’t recognize moved next to the jeep, taking cover next to it and beginning to fire on whatever agents she saw. Nat did the same, hurrying to the other side.

“Get in the van!” Natasha shouted to the four of them. “Move!”

Steve wasn’t sure how Natasha managed to get a rescue mission of this caliber together in a matter of hours, but he wasn’t going to question his and Sharon’s good fortune. Not until they were long out of there and safe.

“C’mon, let’s go!” Sam ordered, pushing ahead. HYDRA seemed to be converging on this exit, lost without their orders and without their leader.

Gunshots fired near them, and Steve moved, grabbing Kate and pushing her down, using the shield to block any bullets. Kate looked almost surprised, jumping when the bullets hit the shield. It was enough cover for them to keep moving forward, for Steve to keep the shield steady as Kate climbed into the van. It was then that Steve noticed a red light flashing from the jeep to down to his chest.

Steve turned sharply, his eyes widening when he saw a HYDRA soldier with a gun pointed at him. There was a red dot on his chest, dead center over his heart, and he couldn’t raise the shield in time from its position where it was protecting Kate.

A gunshot went off.

The HYDRA operative went down, the bullet finding its target in the dead center of his forehead. Steve’s eyes widened as he looked up sharply, catching a glint of metal on the nearby roof. Steve caught a glimpse of a sniper rifle on a roof across the river, a head of dark hair ducking from view before another shot caught a HYDRA operative nearing Nat’s position, hitting dead center of the forehead yet again.

“That’s not.” Sam’s voice was what Steve needed to break free from his shock.

“The only other sniper who could have made that shot is missing in action, and he uses arrows,” Natasha pointed out. She reloaded her gun and shot another HYDRA agent coming up from behind cover to take a shot at them. “C’mon, we need to get out of here.” She hurried into the passenger’s seat of the jeep.

Steve looked back up towards the roof. His stomach dropped when he realized that Bucky was gone, missing from the rooftop.

He’d missed him, yet again. But Bucky was alive. He was there.

And he’d just saved his life yet again.

* * *

 

 The van ride from the HYDRA base to the motel was crowded, but they’d made it work, with Trip, Skye, and Kate all thrown into the trunk. Sharon fell asleep, her head resting on Sam’s shoulder and her legs spread out on Steve’s lap. All of them were exhausted. All of them were half in shock from the events of this night. But they were all alive, and that was a victory that Steve took some minor pleasure in.

Mia was waiting for the motel room, with a large first aid kit and other supplies waiting. She took care of Sharon first, of the bruises on her face and the taser burns on her arms and chest – not to mention the gunshot she’d gained earlier when they’d been captured.

“It’ll be easier if you relax,” Mia pointed out, sighing softly. She took a second look at Sharon’s still tied shoulder. “And we’re going to need to go to a hospital for that gunshot.”

Sharon winced as she looked back over at Steve, closing her eyes as she tried to relax. “I don’t need a hospital,” Sharon argued, clearly not in the mood. “I just want to get some sleep. I haven’t slept for like five days and it’s almost four in the morning now.”

“I don’t trust HYDRA medics to properly deal with a gunshot. And if that bullet’s still in there, we need to get it out.” Mia shook her head when she noticed Sharon roll her eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. I appreciate proper medical care, and I can do more at a hospital.”

Sitting on the bed on the far side of the room, Skye snorted. “HYDRA has medics. I’m still amazed by that,” the brunette mentioned. Her laptop was on her lap, monitoring what communications she could. So far, there was no indication that they were being followed by HYDRA. They were safe for now.

“I’m more concerned about what the hell she was trapped in,” Trip admitted. The younger man next to Skye, with Kate on his other side. Kate had a cold compress on her head from a bump she’d gotten in a one-on-one fight.

“I think it was some sort of brainwashing,” Sharon said. Her voice was quiet, and she was very aware of them all staring at her. “I don’t know. Schmidt was talking about expanding my mind. It was all very cliché.”

Kate’s jaw nearly dropped, and she looked sharply over at Natasha. “I knew I recognized it,” she mentioned. “The device, the one Sharon was hooked up to… it’s the thing that Adelynn and Yelena gave us intel on. The picture in the file.”

Natasha’s face was grim as she looked back over at Sharon. “It’s called the Faustus Method,” Natasha explained. She held up a file on it, setting it down in front of Sharon. The blonde took it immediately, looking through it. “That was the only working one they had now, but it won’t take that long to make more. They’re gonna use it on Clint sooner or later. It’s brainwashing through a procedure of reprogramming and hypnosis.”

Sharon stopped on a picture of the machine she’d been on. The blonde swallowed heavily. “So right now, I could be-“

“It’s easier on weak-willed individuals, and it takes a hell of a lot longer than an hour for it to be effective,” Natasha assured her, sighing before adding, “But we can find a way to check.” She flipped through the file, sighing as she said, “I’ve got the file here, Mia and I can check you out to make sure. Even if you are though, Tony's already working on ways to dismantle it, he found a few HYDRA captives last month in Greece when he was with Thor.”

Steve looked up sharply. "What happened in Greece?" he asked.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Thor adopted a ninety-year-old who got kidnapped. It's a very long story."

"Let's worry about that part later, huh?" Sam asked, gesturing at Sharon.

The blonde was quiet, clearly worried about it. Steve’s hand moved to her shoulder, and she looked up at him in surprise. “They had you an hour,” Steve said in a low tone, his words for her alone. “And from what I’ve figured out about you, you’re stubborn. There’s no way an hour of it would be enough.” Sharon shot him a grateful look.

“So what was the point of all of this?” Sam demanded. He sat at the small table in the room. May left a bit earlier, saying she needed to contact someone. “What was the point of kidnapping the two of them?”

Steve knew the answer to that. “They wanted my blood.” Steve looked back at Natasha before adding, “They took my blood. A lot of it. And we didn’t have time to find it on the way out.”

Natasha seemed to realize exactly how much of a problem that was as she sighed. “Then we hope Barnes destroyed it while he was destroying the base,” she replied simply. “Otherwise… we’ll find out what they’re planning with it when they used it.”

“Great idea,” Sam muttered. “Just let HYDRA run around with Captain America’s blood.”

“You have a better idea?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam. He didn’t answer, merely giving a frustrated sigh. She paused before looking back at Steve and saying, “You didn’t say Barnes was following you.”

“Because I didn’t know,” Steve replied. He shook his head. “I had no idea he was around.”

“He saved your life tonight,” Skye pointed out. She typed a bit into her laptop before adding, “He broke you out and then shot a HYDRA agent. Looks like you’ve got a friend up there.”

Mia looked between all of them, out of her element from the talk of spies and snipers and soldiers. Her phone vibrated and she pulled it over, reading through a text. “My friend can get us into the hospital now, and a psychologist can meet with us in a few hours,” she explained, looking at Sharon. “We can go in now and make sure you’re not…”

“Not brainwashed. Might as well say it out loud, Doc,” Sharon replied dryly, nodding her consent to the plan. “I’m not gonna sleep until I know the answer.”

“I’ll come along. I know most about it from the files I’ve read.” Natasha nodded towards Kate. “You stay and get some rest.”

Steve stood up, slipping out of the room. Everyone was planning the next move, Sam was mentioning either going back to his place with Steve or getting a room for them to get some rest. It’d been a very long few days, and Steve wasn’t sure how the hell to process everything – Peggy’s death, the kidnapping, HYDRA taking his blood, HYDRA attempting to brainwash Sharon…

But whatever else happened, Bucky was there that night. And he’d saved his life.

Whatever happened next, Steve realized, they would deal with it. They’d dealt with everything else thrown their way so far. He and Sharon survived their captivity, her torture, their kidnapping. All of them survived escaping HYDRA. Sam and Kate survived finding him in that base. And they’d all survived tonight.

For now, he could be satisfied in their survival and the fact that Bucky helped.

And that, above anything else, gave him hope.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Sharon talk. Bucky moves on. Natasha discovers the dead come alive.

It was starting to become a tradition. Something traumatic happened and they met for drinks. Though this time around, after Peggy’s funeral, their kidnapping, and Sharon’s attempted brainwashing, the Carter demanded that they meet for alcoholic drinks.

“We were kidnapped, I’m allowed to drink after we get kidnapped,” Sharon explained when Steve questioned her preference to a bar over a coffee shop. “And yes, I know you can’t get drunk. You can get a good drink instead.”

Which was how he found himself seated in the corner of a somewhat run-down bar in Arlington, across the booth from a none-worse-for-wear, post-kidnapping Sharon. At the very least, Steve was impressed with the burger that she’d ordered, and the one he’d ordered for himself. Even if she’d stolen at least three of his onion rings so far.

“Been a hell of a few days,” Steve said as he sipped at his first beer. Sharon was already on her second, though he couldn’t blame her for it. She’d had as rough a week as he had.

Sharon shot him a deadpan look. “I wouldn’t mind a sixty-something nap,” she admitted. There was a teasing edge to her voice that made him smile. “Might be a nice break.”

Steve snorted slightly. “You know, not as fun as it sounds. Clint once talked about the benefits of a long nap. Seemed to be surprised when I made a joke about it.”

“You know, making jokes about trauma is a coping mechanism. Just saying,” she mentioned. Sharon pointed a fry at him, smiling slightly as she tossed it into her mouth. “There was a saying at SHIELD. What doesn’t kill you gives you shitty coping mechanisms and a dark sense of humor.”

“I heard Nat say the same thing once.”

Sharon smirked. “So where is Sam anyway? I thought he might come to the bar with you.”

Steve shook his head. “Mia was coming over to Sam’s place for dinner,” he explained, unable to hide a slight smile. “I’m trying to stay out of the house for as long as I possibly can. Give them time.”

Sharon smirked. “A fun date is always a good recovery from a rescue mission. And they’re pretty cute together.”

Steve hesitated at the mention of recovery, suddenly reminded something he was worried about, something he hoped Sharon was safe from. “The Faustus Method… you’re safe from it?”

Sharon nodded in confirmation, looking relieved. “Took an MRI and at least an hour of Natasha trying to trigger me with code phrases, but I’m clear. I’m having a meeting with a psychologist in a few days, someone May knows and trusts. But they think I’m okay.” She shook her head. “Thank god. Brainwashing is not something I ever want to experience.”

“No one deserves it.” He’d seen what it’d done to Bucky, and the idea of it happening to Sharon or anyone else was awful. He was so tired of HYDRA hurting the people in his life, the people he cared about.

She didn’t respond, merely dragging a French fry through ketchup. “Thank you,” she said, looking back over at him. “For coming after me in there. You could have easily just left me there.”

Steve shot her a surprised and almost hurt look. “You really think I’d do that?”

“No,” Sharon assured him. She leaned back in her seat, looking back over towards him. “But working in SHIELD… you don’t assume you’re getting a rescue team on your tail. You don’t assume you’ll be saved. Which means I appreciate the assist more than I can say. Thanks for making sure I got out of there too.”

“It was a team effort.” Steve gave a dry smile before raising his beer bottle. “To all the people who made sure we got the hell out of there.”

“To the people who clearly don’t care about odds.” Sharon raised her glass, clipping it with Steve’s bottle before sipping at it. “Maybe having friends is a good thing. Especially when I have to spend a bunch of time in a hospital making sure I’m not brainwashed. Mia stayed with me the entire time. So did Nat.”

“We have good people on our side.” He sighed before saying, “Just like HYDRA’s got some pretty awful ones on their side.”

“You can say that again.” Sharon shook her head as she dragged one of her fries through ketchup. She didn’t eat it, merely continuing to drown it. A thoughtful look appeared on her face, and he knew she was thinking of the same thing he was. “HYDRA’s alive and well with a Schmidt at the helm again.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t think she’s running it,” he admitted.

Sharon frowned. She set the fry down, leaning forward and tilting her head as she watched him. “What makes you say that?” she asked. She seemed genuinely curious, and he was relieved she didn’t dismiss his suspicion.

“She said something about HYDRA being a Schmidt family business most of the time. I don’t think she’s the only one in it. And if she’d been the one in charge… we’d both be dead.” And that was what worried Steve the most. Someone wanted them alive. Someone stopped Schmidt from killing them.

“You think someone is higher than her on the HYDRA totem pole,” Sharon guessed, sighing. “I don’t know how that makes me feel.”

“It worries me a lot. HYDRA is a lot more organized today than it was a few decades ago. And they had Pierce as a high ranking member.”

“Pierce and a few other agents I knew. Garrett was a damned good field agent, he was HYDRA all along. Ward, Sitwell, Rollins and Rumlow…” Sharon shook her head. “That’s just the ones we know about. There could be dozens more.”

And wasn’t that a wonderful thought? Steve didn’t reply for a few minutes, merely watching the chaos at the bar. People were living their everyday lives, without the fear of HYDRA. DC was slowly returning to normal, even if the cleanup of the Triskelion had barely begun. Steve knew that people like he and Sharon were never going to have normal lives. They would always be on the front lines.

But as he was slowly realizing, they weren’t alone in this fight.

“If anything good came out of this mess,” Steve said, his tone quiet and reserved only for Sharon. “Then it was Bucky saving us. He’s out there. And there’s some part of the Bucky I knew still alive. He’s not just the Winter Soldier.”

He hadn’t realized how much he needed that confirmation. He didn’t realize how much he needed his faith to be confirmed. But now, he had that confirmation, that proof, and it was more than enough for him.

“He helped get us out,” Sharon pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. “That’s more than any of us thought he would do, I think. Hell, I know I didn’t expect it.”

Steve sipped at his beer, looking down at the dew on the glass bottle before admitting, “This… this proves it to me. There’s something left of Bucky in there. Why else would he follow us, why else would he help us on the roof?”

He looked to Sharon. His blue eyes shone in the dim bar light with something akin to hope more than desperation – an optimistic change Sharon hadn’t expected. “He did that a thousand times during the war, to protect me. Protect me from the shots I didn’t see coming. Some part of him is in there, Sharon. I just need to find him.”

Sharon’s thumb circled the rim of her glass, and she nodded. “I understand. I just really hope you know what you’re doing here.”

Steve’s reply was almost too soft to be heard, but she heard it. “I do too.”

Sharon didn’t look at him before saying, “I’ll be there. When it comes down to it.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback. “I’m sorry?” he asked, not entirely sure what she meant. “You mean when I find Bucky?”

She nodded. “When you find him… if you need me, I’ll be there. Even if it’s just someone else to drag him out of whatever hell he’s in.” Sharon raised her chin, brown eyes lit with a fire that almost surprised Steve. “I was there when it started at the Triskelion. I want to be there when it ends. I want something good to come out of what happened, and if that means saving one man… maybe that’s enough.”

For most of his life, Bucky was the only person Steve could rely on. The only person outside his mother who’d stood beside him every step of the way. The Commandos, Peggy, they’d come later, and after he woke up, he’d thought he never have that again.

It was in that moment that he realized that maybe, just maybe, there were people out there that wanted to save Bucky as much as he did. Sam. Sharon. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t alone in this crusade.

Steve only nodded. “I’ll call you,” he promised simply. He hesitated before stepping forward, squeezing Sharon’s hand. “Take care. Be safe, alright?” He shot her a weak smile. “And I mean it, Sharon. Please stay safe.”

“I will.” Sharon leaned back before saying, “Colleen wants to take a vacation. She owns a cabin in Pennsylvania. I’m going to go with her for a while. Just get my bearings. Tony wants to offer me a job, so I’m going to hold him off as long as possible.”

“You deserve a break,” Steve mentioned.

“So do you,” Sharon pointed out, raising a thin eyebrow across at him.

Steve gave a tired smile. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

She nodded, shaking his hand back. It was a firm handshake, one that lingered for perhaps a beat too long. She pulled her hand away before he could truly notice. “Be safe, Steve.” She smiled weakly up at him. “Remember. Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” Steve replied. “I promise.”

It was only after he was on a plane to Europe that he realized his promise to call her wasn’t an empty one.

* * *

 

 In Germany, a car pulled up to a sprawling mansion. Thea didn’t bother to wait for the driver to open the door, merely pushing it open herself as she pulled her bag over her shoulder. Her mission hadn’t gone as planned, of course, but she’d gotten what she needed – proof that Captain America was vulnerable to the sedative, proof that the last remaining Carter in intelligence work was a threat, and proof that the Winter Soldier was alive and going after HYDRA.

Even with the loss of her captives, this was a good day.

Thea let herself into the mansion, pausing at the sound of voices nearby. She stopped in the doorway of the grand living room. An older blonde woman sat on an antique armchair, watching a four-year-old boy playing with Legos on the floor. A second blond woman, around Thea’s age, sat on a couch, an infant on her chest and her shirt carefully pulled to allow for easy feeding.

Thea coughed out loud to gain their attention. “Do I see a castle being built? I think someone’s been listening to their aunt’s architecture talks.”

The little boy looked up sharply, his dark eyes widening as he scrambled to his feet. “Mommy!”

Thea went down to her knees, opening her arms and taking her son into them. “Hello, Aiden,” she murmured. She kissed the top of his head gently before setting him down. “Did you behave for your grandmother and your aunt?”

Aiden nodded eagerly. “Uh huh, promise,” he said, half jumping as he held onto his mother, pointing at the Legos. “Aunt Andrea got me more Legos, and Daddy came to visit too!”

The second part took her by surprise. “Oh, did he?” Thea asked. She looked towards the two blondes, raising an eyebrow. “And where is he now?”

“He left two days ago for the Malick residence. I’m not sure when he’s expected to return.” Alexandra Braun, better known as the Baroness among HYDRA circles, stood up and smiled fondly down at the little boy before nodding at Thea. “I trust your trip was successful?” There was an edge of coolness to her voice when she addressed Thea, one she was very used to.

“As could be expected,” Thea confirmed, standing up with Aiden on her hip. She reached out, smoothing his hair back before saying, “Go brush your teeth. If you do it quickly, I’ll tell you a story before bed tonight.”

“About Great-Grandmother?” Aiden asked. His little hands curled into Thea’s red hair as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“If you want.” Thea kissed her son’s cheek gently, nodding at the nanny as she came in. She set Aiden back down onto the ground, kissing his forehead again before gently pushing him forward. “Thank you, Melanie. Aiden, she’ll check if you brush your teeth, make sure you do.”

“Melanie, here,” Andrea mentioned, sighing as she handed the infant in her arms over. “She’s been fed, please put her to bed.” She smiled gently down at her daughter before adding, “I’ll check on her in a while.”

Melanienodded, taking Aiden by the hand and leading him out, while carrying Andrea’s infant daughter along. The three women were left in the room a few moments later, and Thea forced a dry smile on her face, tilting her head as she looked back over towards Alexandra.

“So he did behave?” Thea asked, her voice coldly polite.

“He did. He’s a good child,” Alexandra mentioned. The matriarch turned back to her daughter before adding, “If you excuse me, I must return to the States quickly. I have a board meeting in the morning. If you hear from your brother, tell him to call me.” The last statement was clearly an order as Alexandra leaned in and kissed Andrea’s cheek.

Andrea gave a deadpan smile. “Which brother?”

“Either of them. Though I’m sure Werner is busy blowing through money in some tropical country.” Alexandra shot a cold nod at Thea before adding, “Take care of my grandchildren, both of you.” Alexandra walked out of the room, and Thea heard the front door close moments later.

“Charming as ever,” Thea muttered, “But then again, what would I expect from the von Strucker family?”

“The older generation isn’t used to the idea of having a sense of humor,” Andrea assured Thea, shaking her head before gesturing for her to sit down with her. “And she’s also not very thrilled about me taking a break for a few months. This was less about you and more about me.”

“You had a baby. It’s not that easy,” Thea mentioned, frowning deeply. “She puts far too much pressure on you.”

“She’s my mother, of course she does. Not all our mothers can be as wonderful as yours, Thea.” Andrea smirked back over at her as she sipped at her tea. “Aiden was well-behaved though. Mother wasn’t lying about that.”

“Well, at least he would behave if I died going against Captain America,” Thea deadpanned.

“I was going to say that I was surprised to see you alive, Thea, but I thought that went without saying.”

“Hide your disappointment, Andrea.” There was a fond smile on Thea’s face as she sighed and opened the bag at her side, handing it over to her. “Steve Rogers’ blood. I told you I would get a hold of it.”

Andrea’s eyes widened as she took the bag, looking down at it. She pulled a vial from the depths, a smile crossing her face as she looked it over. “I take back anything I ever said questioning your competency,” she mentioned. A small smile crossed her face. “You really are good, Thea.”

Thea only smirked. Her eyes flickered to the entrance before she asked, “Did Otto spend any time with Aiden while he was here?”

Andrea sighed, looking back over. “Some. Not much. He played outside with him a bit. Stephanie asked him to come not long later. Cecily's had a few health problems as of late.”

“Of course she has.” She still was frustrated by Otto's utter fascination with Stephanie Malick and their daughter, though she knew that it kept Otto out of her hair. “As long as Stephanie’s brat doesn’t get in the way of my son’s inheritance, I have no problem with her existence. Malick has his cult, let him keep it.”

“After all Father went through to make sure his grandson was a Schmidt in blood? No, Aiden will take over HYDRA, despite whatever Gideon Malick thinks,” Andrea snorted, shaking her head. “Stephanie and her father will raise Cecily to their standards of HYDRA. And if they know what’s good for them, they won’t reach farther than that.”

“You would hope so. But it never seemed to me that Malick is satisfied.” She shook her head, sighing before looking back, “And the other thing I asked you to do? The one your father would not help me with?”

Andrea paused, looking over and adding in a low voice, “Rumlow’s been broken out from the hospital. He’s in a HYDRA facility now for recovery. I’ll let you know where when I have more security.” She gestured at the bag. “With that blood though… I might be able to find a way to make him strong again.”

“You do what you have to.” Thea’s eyes flickered back over to her son, and she shook her head. “I’m going to do what I have to. I don’t care what stands in my way. Or who, for that matter.”

Even if it was her son’s family.

* * *

 

 “So, why Alaska?”

After picking up a hitchhiker about a day ago, the truck driver was still taken aback with how silent he was. The hitchhikers he’d picked up before usually couldn’t stop talking about what an epic adventure they were on, hitchhiking and risking their lives to find the true America. He’d met very few intelligent hitchhikers. This one was different.

Honestly, it was kinda refreshing to have someone who just stared out the window and answered whatever questions he was asked. It was nice to have the silence and the additional money he got from just driving him as far as he could.

The brunet man in the passenger’s seat shrugged lightly. “Alaska’s quiet,” he replied simply. “Has a lot of fishing boats.” And a fishing boat could get him to Russia, to the next place that he remembered.

The truck driver laughed. “Fishing boats are a lot of work,” he replied. “Just from looking at you though, I think you could handle it.”

“You can get me as far as Nevada?” the brunet asked after a few moments of silence. His icy blue eyes watched him carefully, and the truck driver shuffled uncomfortably. “That’s where you’re going, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “I can get you as far as Vegas.”

“I can find the rest of the way.” He shuffled through his bag, finding a wad of cash before handing it to him. “Think this should cover my tagging along.”

The truck driver stared in shock at the wad of cash. “You know, I half want to ask, and half realize that looking a wad of cash in the mouth is not a good idea,” he noted. He took the money either way. “So, yeah, I can get you to Vegas. You’re on your own from there.”

The dark-haired man nodded, readjusting his hat. “I’ve got it from there,” he promised.

From there, it would be easier to get from Vegas to Alaska, Alaska to a fishing boat. He had enough money to bribe someone to get him close enough to swim to Russia from there. He couldn’t risk a plane. Not with how tight airport security was all around the world in the aftermath of the HYDRA uprising.

Leaning his head against the glass window, Bucky Barnes sighed. He had a mission.

Now he just had to stick with it.

* * *

 

In a Russian gulag, a man gasped in pain as he was thrown into a cell. His entire body was soaking wet, shudders and shivers overtaking him constantly. He curled into a ball, trying to retain whatever body heat he might still have, however little of it that might be.

“Get comfortable, SHIELD,” the guard taunted.

He nodded at the man behind him, and the second guard raised the hose he had, aiming it carefully at the man on the floor. A shout of alarm and shock came as the hose fired full blast at the prisoner, sending him curling into a ball. The freezing cold water would be bad enough anywhere. In Siberia, it was rubbing salt into an open wound.

“You’re not getting out of here alive,” the guard finished simply, smirking back over at the prisoner before walking away. “Might as well get comfortable. Look forward to the day that HYDRA decides to bring you over. It might be someday soon.”

The prisoner spat at him, the spittle hitting the first guard’s boot. The guard rolled his eyes, nodding at the second man. After another ten second blast of the hose, the two guards left. The prisoner was left alone, curled up in a puddle of freezing water on the floor. His body shook from the water, but his eyes burned with fire.

His gray eyes blazed as he glared towards the empty hallway in front of his cell. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” he asked simply. He had people coming for him. He just had to survive until then.

And if there was anything Clint Barton was, it was a survivor.

* * *

 

Two days after the rescue from the HYDRA base, Natasha and Kate were finishing up preparations to leave yet again. While inside the HYDRA base for the rescue, Natasha found enough intel to give them new leads on Clint. That intel, added to what Adelynn and Yelena gave her, was enough that Natasha was confident that Clint was somewhere in Russia, held in a HYDRA-sponsored prison or gulag. The trick now was figuring out which one.

“When does our flight leave again?” Kate asked as she packed up the last of her belongings from the motel room. “9:20 tonight?”

“Right around there. It’ll take us directly to Switzerland. From there, we make our way to Russia,” Natasha confirmed. She typed away at her phone. “It’s easier to get there by car, especially since we don’t want HYDRA to know that we know he’s being kept in Russia.”

Kate nodded, satisfied with the current plan. It felt like they had a lead, more of one than they’d had in months. Add to that the victory in the fact they’d successfully rescued Steve and Sharon from HYDRA and Kate was more confident than ever that they could find Clint.

Natasha felt more confident as well. The intel that they had made her feel more prepared. And having a single country to search was easier than a continent. Even if this intel meant going back to Russia, she was willing to do it if it meant she was going to be closer to finding Clint. They were on the right path, and that was all Natasha needed.

She’d talk to Ivan fucking Bezuhkov again if it meant she could find Clint.

“Romanoff.”

Natasha glanced up at the sound of her name. Melinda was standing near the motel room door, a look that could be considered grim even for her painted across her face. “We need to talk. Alone.”

Kate raised an eyebrow as she pushed a few more things into her purple carryon bag. “I can go and pack stuff up, leave you two…” she mentioned.

“No. In my room,” Melinda said simply.

Kate paused, glancing at Natasha before nodding. “I can stay in here. Pack more, get everything in the car. Maybe go get some food with Skye and Trip so we don’t have to rush around in the airport.”

Skye, standing just outside the room, perked up at the mention of pizza. “Hey, I’m more than okay with food. I could totally go for pizza right now,” she mentioned, smirking over at Kate. “You in?”

“You had me at pizza,” Kate replied, giving a genuine, cheerful grin as she looked back at Skye.

Skye looked back at Trip before adding, “We’ll get some vegetarian crap on it so you can eat healthy.”

Trip smirked, raising his hands when Kate came out of the room, her purse over her shoulder. “Hey, I can turn away the healthy eating when it comes to pizza,” he teased, punching Skye lightly in the arm.

Natasha walked out of the room, keeping an eye on the three of them as they chattered, walking through the parking lot. They passed a red, open-top car on the way to the road. The pizza place they’d passed earlier was only a few minutes’ walk away, but it would be long enough to get all three younger agents out of their way until she and Melinda were done talking.

Melinda stood next to her, waiting until the three were out of sight before nodding at her. She led the way down a few doors, to the room she’d rented earlier for the three of them.

Natasha entered first, and Melinda closed and locked the door behind her. Natasha glanced around the room. Same layout as hers and Kate’s, a closed bathroom door, and a few bags strewn about, a laptop asleep on the table. There was nothing in this room that was out of the ordinary. From Melinda’s face though, Natasha thought she might be able to raise the dead.

“So what exactly is it?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow at Melinda. “You’re not exactly one for surprises, Mel.”

Melinda gave a deep sigh, something that resembled a bone-tiredness in her. “It’s not my surprise, exactly.” She gestured to the bathroom door, where a man calmly walked out. Natasha thought her eyes were deceiving her.

And then came a voice that Natasha was sure she’d never hear again, one she was sure was long since dead. Just like its owner. Just like the man she’d helped to bury nearly two years ago, who once looked at her and saw not an assassin just waiting to snap, but a woman who wanted to prove herself.

“Hello, Natasha.”

It was the voice of man who should be dead.

She found her voice at last. “Phil?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Andrea von Strucker** \- Natalie Dormer  
>  **Alexandra Braun, the Baroness** \- Kathryn Leigh Scott
> 
> The Baroness is the same character as seen in season 2 of Agents of SHIELD. I just decided to expand her role into Baron Wolfgang von Strucker's wife and the mother of his children. Otto is my equivalent of Andreas, mostly due to the fact that I kept mixing them up while writing, and is also a bit of a shout out to The Gifted.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come together. Paths intersect.

**Part III: Undo This Storm**

* * *

 

It was late September when Sharon visited New York and allowed Tony to attempt talking her into joining Stark Industries permanently.

The several month vacation to the cabin in the woods was a fun one. Sharon forgot how much she loved the outdoors, and that break was one she desperately needed. Especially when it came to the fact that at the end of the day, she was still unemployed and recovering from what happened with SHIELD.

This meeting, at least, was an attempt to rectify the unemployment problem she had. Even though she was sure that Tony was making it a challenge to butter her up as much as possible so she couldn’t say no to the job offer.

“It would be a great fit,” Tony pointed out, waving his hand slightly as he pushed a bottle of white wine towards her. She was fairly sure that the bottle was older than she was and more expensive than a year of college. Tony Stark knew how to properly bribe someone. “Asset management. You could make your own hours. You’re a badass. Hill’s already moving to us, she's gonna be focusing on recruitment. She's going to get them to us, you'll get them to stay and handle them. I’ll even give you a corner office.”

“I don’t like the idea of going into the private sector, Tony. There’s a lot of grey area there, and a lot of potential for abuse,” Sharon argued, though she conceded as she opened the bottle and poured some into her glass, raising it at him before sipping at it. “And Stark Industries has seen a lot of corruption. No offense.”

“I was there, trust me, I know.” Tony shook his head. “And with the way we’re planning it, we’ll avoid corruption. This isn’t a new branch of Stark Industries, Sharon. We’re gonna do this right. What my dad and your aunt did, except on a smaller scale to start with.”

Coming full circle, yet again. A Stark and a Carter, when presented with a world that was broken and unprotected, would inevitably try to build something that could serve as a shield. That had to be a law of the universe by this point.

“I’m not an Avenger,” Sharon pointed out.

“I think you could be, but that's not the point. We don't just need Avengers. We need support. People who know how this world works. Because Thor’s great, he really is, but the guy has no idea how this place works. He and Jane only got back to Earth like last week after the whole mess with HYDRA attacking them. Plus, he called my tech archaic a few months back, Sharon. My tech!”

Sharon snorted in amusement, sipping at the wine before looking back over. “What does Pepper think about all of this? Especially with your own baby coming.”

“That’s why I want you up here. I’m stepping back when the baby comes, I want to be involved with him or her,” Tony explained. “And you’re a perfectionist, you’ll be able to make sure that everything is running exactly how we want it. I trust you to get it done.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Sharon sipped at her wine before looking back at him. “You’re making this a very hard to refuse offer, Tony.”

“I’m good like that, huh?” Tony raised an eyebrow over at her. “Did I mention one of the benefits is that I help with your rent? As in pay for all of it? And there’s apartment buildings nearby that are really nice.”

“This feels less like a job interview and more of you trying to bribe me into this position,” Sharon protested, giving a long-suffering sigh again. “Because asset manager feels already like an insane headache. Or the best job ever.”

Tony frowned. “There’s a difference?”

“A huge one.” She raised her hands before saying, “New rule. No job talk for at least an hour.”

“Fine, fine,” Tony scoffed, raising his hands before adding, “Pepper and I want you to be godmother.”

Sharon’s jaw dropped as she choked on a sip of wine. She stared across. “Wait, you’re serious?” she demanded, her eyes wide. “Holy shit, Tony, you only bring this up now?”

“Well, I forgot,” Tony protested, managing a quiet smile. As much as he might act laidback about it, Sharon knew that Tony was half exhilarated and half terrified for the impending birth of his and Pepper’s child. “Rhodey’s godfather, no duh. So we need someone else responsible as godmother. And well… you’re the one we both want.”

Sharon managed a quiet smile before nodding. “Yeah. I’ll be godmother.”

“Fantastic! That’s one more thing down, and besides, this is me carrying on the family tradition of Carters and Starks, with a Carter godmother to a baby Stark. He’ll have a great godmother.”

Sharon laughed. “How are you so sure it’s a boy? Pepper said she thinks it’s a girl.”

“Yeah, well, I’m always right, duh,” Tony replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s a boy.”

Her reply was cut off by the sound of her phone ringing. Sharon was taken by surprise, looking back over at Tony. She rarely got phone calls, especially since she’d decided not to go into the CIA like she originally had planned. To get a phone call now was beyond odd, and she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on.

“Who is it?” Tony asked, looking a bit surprised as well. “Who the hell would want to call you?”

“Shut up, Tony.” Sharon pulled her phone from her bag, looking back down at it. Her eyes widened when she saw the emojis that served as the indicator of who was calling her – a star emoji, an American flag, and a tiny version of Captain America’s shield. “It’s Steve.”

“The suspense is killing me, answer it,” Tony interrupted, raising an eyebrow across at her.

Sharon frowned at him as she answered the call, her glare warning him not to say a thing while on the phone. “Carter.”

“Sharon?”

She frowned when she recognized the alert in his voice. After their kidnapping a few months earlier, they’d spoken on occasion over the phone. She’d sent him intel she thought might provide a clue to Bucky’s location. He’d vented to her about the frustrations about constantly being on the hunt for a ghost. Once, she’d heard him admit that he didn’t know if Bucky could be saved, but he had to try.

“Steve, is everything okay?” she demanded, sitting up. Tony frowned, tugging off his sunglasses to study her intently.

“We found him.” There was the oddest mix of emotions in his voice – relief, joy, but also horror, fear, and anxiety. “We found him. We found him before he hit the base he’s targeting, but he’s going after a HYDRA-controlled gulag, and there’s innocent people inside of it…” A pause. “Clint’s in the gulag, Sharon. We need everyone we can to get him out. And we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Okay,” Sharon said, her voice low and calm. She took a deep breath. “Where are you?”

“Novosibirsk,” Steve replied, taking a deep breath. “We’re in a house that someone Natasha knows owns, we’re trying to plan things. Do you think you can get here?”

“Give me two days. Maybe less if I hit some good luck.” Sharon’s brown eyes flickered to Tony, and she hoped that he would be that good luck. “Send me what you know so I can be ready on the ride over.”

“Sharon.” Steve’s voice was exhausted, but there was an edge of pure gratitude that nearly broke Sharon’s heart. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll see you soon, Steve. I’ll call you when I reach the city. Tell Nat not to do anything stupid.” She hung up the phone, and closed her eyes, looking back over at Tony. “They found him,” she said simply. “They found Barnes.”

Tony’s eyes widened at Sharon’s admission, and he sighed. “Where?”

“About to attack a gulag in Siberia, a HYDRA-controlled one.” Sharon started to pull her things together, putting everything back into her bag. “And to make it even more fun, they also found Barton. He’s being held prisoner in that gulag.”

Tony blew out a breath. “Of course he is,” he muttered. He started to move to his feet. “When do we leave?”

“Oh, no, you’re not coming,” Sharon warned, staring at him in horror. “Tony, you are not coming to this.”

“What the hell are you talking about, I’m not coming? You’re not breaking into some random HYDRA base, Carter, you’re all breaking into a fucking gulag,” Tony argued. He crossed his arms against his chest, glaring across at Carter. “You guys can’t do this alone, you need me.”

“Pepper is going to have your child any day now, no way are you leaving her alone for that. You said you want to be a better father than yours, then start right away,” Sharon interrupted. Two sets of brown eyes stared each other down, and Sharon saw the exact moment he decided to stay.

“You call me if need be.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand, a plea for a promise.

“Of course,” Sharon replied, sighing slightly as she started to gather up her things. She needed to figure out a way to get to Russia as quickly as possible. Getting that plane ticket was going to destroy her bank account, but it was the only option.

“Iron Man could help a lot with this.” Tony’s voice took on a sing-song quality that made Sharon roll her eyes.

“Maybe, but Tony Stark is needed more at home at the moment.” She shot Tony a severe look before pointing out, “Part of your and Pepper’s deal is that you focus on Tony Stark sometimes, too. This is one of those times where you really need to. You’re about to be a dad, Tony. Don’t miss your own kid’s birth.”

“Cheap card.” He scowled and she knew she’d gotten through to him. “Doesn’t mean that Iron Man could help a lot. Breaking into a gulag sounds like fun.”

“This is a mission that’s going to need stealth anyway. Stealth is not something that could remotely describe that armor.”

Tony frowned, but shrugged lightly. “Okay, you’ve got a point there. C’mon, I’ll drive you to the airport. Got to call Happy to tell him to get the plane ready anyway.” He paused before adding, “I upgraded a version of Wilson’s wings. Let me send it with you. And get you on a private jet to Russia.”

Sharon frowned before warning, “Not the jet you conceived your kid in. Just. Just no, Tony.”

Tony laughed. “You’ll never know what jet it was. Maybe it wasn’t even a jet.”

“Tony, if you’re telling me your kid wasn’t conceived in a jet, I’ll throw something at you.”

The billionaire smirked, and Sharon rolled her eyes. Conceptions were something she couldn’t focus on right now.

What she needed to focus on was getting to Russia and figuring out how the hell they were going to find Bucky and rescue Clint before it was too late.

* * *

 

It somehow did not surprise Kate that Clint’s rescue would turn out to be as complicated as it was.

A few months of running around Russia, surveying gulags and searching for the one that would hold a certain archer inside, ended when they found the privately-owned one in Siberia, a hundred miles outside of Novosibirsk. The intel was provided by Ivan Bezuhkov, who turned out to be incredibly useful once he found out that it was in fact HYDA financing the damned place. After that, the Russian government couldn’t disavow it fast enough, though they’d made no move to take it down.

Ivan did, however, give Natasha full permission and approval to break in, take down anyone who got in her way, and get Barton out. Provided all three of them left the country as quickly as possible in the aftermath.

Things became even more complicated when Natasha realized that someone else was watching the gulag. It’d taken one tiny hit from a security camera, of a shadow slipping past a wall with a glint on his left arm, for Natasha to realize who else was in the area, who was planning to break into that gulag and possibly destroy it completely.

That was when they’d called Steve and Sam and warned them Barnes was there.

And that was how they were now all in the same house, with the tension between Steve and Natasha incredibly high. Sam and Kate were left in between, trying to find more intel on the gulag and trying on occasion to find Barnes. Every search was in vain. Barnes wouldn’t be found until he wanted to be found, or when he decided to launch his assault on the gulag.

“Steve called Sharon,” Sam mentioned as they wandered around the streets of the city. They'd both taken advantage of a wait to go and grab food for them all. “She’s gonna get here as soon as possible. I just hope she’s gonna be a peacemaker between Steve and Nat.”

Kate nodded in agreement, smiling charmingly at the teenager manning the coffee cart they passed. She pulled out several rubles, raising an eyebrow at Sam. The man nodded back in confirmation, and Kate pulled out a few more. The two were quiet as they got their coffee, and when they finally received it, walked away.

“Nat’s desperate,” Kate said, her voice quiet. “We don’t know how much longer we can hold it off. Every day he spends in there is another day he might be brainwashed. Or another day closer to brainwashing.”

“And Steve doesn’t want to risk breaking in and scaring Bucky off,” Sam said, sighing in frustration as he looked back over at Kate. “This is a shit show, Bishop.”

“C’mon, even I know that,” Kate scoffed, sipping at her coffee before looking back around the city. There was no sign of anything out of the ordinary. They really had left more as an escape from the tension.

“You miss home at all?” Sam asked after a few moments. “Because I know I miss my home a lot. I was thinking about getting a dog when this all calms down.”

“Dogs are the best thing in the world, so I approve of that,” Kate mentioned. She really did miss Lucky more than she could say, though she knew from multiple check-in texts from Barney that he was doing more than fine, and was having the time of his life with the Barton kids. “I don’t know if I’ll go back to New York.”

Sam raised an eyebrow over at her. “Why not?”

Kate shrugged. “Not close with my family. Clint and Nat basically _are_ my family. I’m just hoping that wherever they both head off to when this is over… they have enough room for me too.”

It didn’t take a counselor to hear the loneliness in Kate’s voice. Sam sighed, reaching over and patting her shoulder gently. Kate looked up sharply, looking surprised. Her face softened as she sighed and shot him a grateful look, sitting down outside of a café and looking out at the city, as if hoping that some miracle would occur and they would find what they were looking for out here. She had to hope for that at least. Hell, maybe Barnes would just come over and sit next to them.

They both let the silence reign after this, both lost in the thought of what their lives might be like when this hunt was over. It’d been months since the Triskelion fell, since their lives completely changed, and the hunts they’d dedicated themselves to, for Barnes and Barton, might almost be over. It was strange to think about.

“So,” Kate asked, smirking over at Sam. “Steve is bringing Sharon in on this. Are you bringing a certain doctor in to consult?”

“God no,” Sam scoffed, shooting her a warning look, not for the teasing, but for the mere idea of bringing Mia into this slowly increasingly shitty mess. “She’s still in the States. She’s getting a hold of Barney just in case this goes south and we need even more backup. But she’s available if we need a doctor when we get to the States.”

“Which we probably will,” Kate pointed out. She swallowed heavily and sipped at her coffee. “Because even if he says he hasn’t, we’ll need to check whether Clint’s been brainwashed. We can’t risk anything else.”

He knew that was true, as much as none of them might not want to think about it. “What if he has been brainwashed?” he asked quietly. “Are you and Natasha ready for that?”

Kate shook her head. “I’m not,” she admitted, knowing that it was not something she wanted to think about. “I didn’t know Clint back during the stuff that happened with Loki. I met him after that. But I do know that it was a hell of a lot harder on him and Natasha than either of them ever want to admit.”

“And I’ve got a feeling that HYDRA brainwashing will take more to break than a hit on the head,” Sam admitted.

Kate smiled sadly. “Just look at Barnes.” She looked up at the clock nearby and sighed, “C’mon, we should head back. Make sure that Natasha and Steve haven’t killed each other arguing about what the hell we’re going to do next.”

* * *

 As a matter of fact, back at the modest safe house owned by Ivan Bezuhkov and on loan to Natasha Romanoff, the spy and the soldier were in fact arguing. Blessedly, it hadn't descended into blows just yet.

In some ways, Sam and Kate were exactly right. Steve and Natasha were both far more compromised by this mission than they would ever care to admit. Clint was one of the people Natasha cared most for in the world, and the same applied with Bucky to Steve. And both Bucky and Clint's fates were tied to that gulag – whether it burned, was destroyed, liberated, or anything. Clint was a hostage of that gulag. It was Bucky’s target.

And considering their backgrounds, their skills, and everything else, Natasha and Steve both heartily disagreed on what their next move should be.

“We break in now, we show our hand and spook Bucky,” Steve argued. They’d been arguing for the last hour, ever since Sam and Kate left to go on yet another scouting recon. “Then we lose him, and the best chance we’ve got at finding him before he accidentally hurts someone.”

“Great, then we leave Clint inside that gulag and let him be brainwashed or tortured or caught in the crossfire when Barnes inevitably decides to burn the place down,” Natasha deadpanned, her voice like acid as she rolled angry green eyes. “Great idea, Steve.”

“This is the closest we’ve gotten in nearly six months, Natasha!” Steve snapped, trying to keep his temper out of control. He was desperate. They were within a hundred miles of Bucky right now, and if they messed it up, they would lose him again. He didn’t know how they could handle it.

“And this is the closest I’ve gotten to Clint in six months,” Natasha spat. “If HYDRA realizes we’re in the area, they’ll kill Clint or move him. And I’m not going to lose him again.”

“If they haven’t killed him yet, they won’t. And they don’t have the technology to brainwash him, not with how much damage Bucky’s been doing to them.” He and Sam found a trail of fire and blood and machinery parts easily enough, and at least three of the Faustus machines and two memory wipe machines were among that carnage.

“Don’t you dare ask me to risk that,” Natasha growled. “You didn’t see him in the aftermath of Loki, Steve. We don't know how many machines they have. And we don’t know if what Loki did to him might make it easier to brainwash Clint.”

“You don’t know that it won’t,” Steve argued, though he knew that he shouldn’t have made that point. He cared about getting Clint out too, he did – and he honestly had no idea what their next move should be. And neither did Natasha. This was just them taking out months of frustrations on each other.

“Do you know what damage HYDRA could do with Clint?” Natasha demanded. “Just as much damage as they have done with Bucky. You read through those files, Steve, you know how many people he’s killed!”

“Because you and I have no blood on our hands,” Steve spat, glaring across at her. There was an edge to his eyes at the mention of how many people Bucky killed, how many deaths were on his shoulders. His mind went to two victims in particular he knew of, who he pushed back thoughts of in seconds. “Because you and I haven’t killed in self-defense on this mission.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Natasha argued. “We have to get in there. I called you in here as a courtesy, nothing more, but I have my mission here, Steve, and it’s to get Clint out of here.”

“A courtesy?” Steve demanded, laughing slightly before gesturing harshly towards her. “You mean it’s a courtesy that you didn’t just shot him?”

A genuinely hurt look passed over her face. “If you think I would do that without a second thought you don’t know me at all.”

In the doorway, Kate winced. “I knew this was going to start getting ugly,” she muttered, giving a long-suffering sigh as she looked up at the ceiling, praying to whatever deity might be listening for patience and the ability for all of them to get out of this alive. “Think it’s too early for alcohol?”

“It’s Russia and we’re about to get into the middle of an argument between the Black Widow and Captain America. No way it’s too early for alcohol,” Sam replied. He sighed deeply before stepping forward, whistling sharply.

Natasha and Steve froze in place, both turning sharply towards the doorway. Sam raised an eyebrow at Kate before stepping forward. “This arguing is getting ridiculous.” When both of them opened their mouths, Sam shook his head, holding his hand up again. “No talking. This time, I’m gonna talk. You both. Sit down. Now.”

To his delight and surprise, both Steve and Natasha sat down. Neither would look at each other, and neither would look at Sam. It reminded him of when he’d mediate a fight between his niece and nephew more than anything else.

“Look, I’m gonna say it now – you’re both emotional compromised,” Sam interrupted bluntly. He crossed his arms against his chest, gesturing towards both of them. “Someone incredibly important to both of you is in the middle of this mess, of course you’re both compromised. That is not a bad thing.”

That seemed to surprise them. Both of them finally looked back at him, and Sam took advantage of their attention to keep going on. “It’s not a bad thing because you both care. You care about the people at risk here. You wouldn’t have just spent months hunting them down if you didn’t care.”

Sam gestured over towards Kate, who frowned at the realization she was getting pulled into whatever analogy he was giving. “But you two aren’t the only ones involved in this. Kate and I are both here too. And neither of us are gonna just sit around.”

Sam looked towards Natasha before saying, “Can we leave him there? No, we can’t, because he’s waited long enough for a rescue, and we’re bringing it to him. But we need to be careful about it so that we don’t trigger Barnes or HYDRA.” He looked towards Steve before adding, “And we’re not gonna scare Bucky off. Even if we get in there, he’ll stay. Bucky hasn’t been running. He’s been hunting. But don’t tell me Barton wouldn’t be useful to get into the head of another sniper.”

Judging by their silence and their lowered gazes, Sam knew he’d gotten through to both of them on this. “Just… both of you go get some rest. Try and sleep. Sharon will be here in a day and from there, we’ll figure out what the hell we’ll do.” Sam voice was firm as he said, “But we’re saving both of them. That’s not in question.”

There was no reply from either of them. Natasha stood up, not looking or speaking to anyone as she let the room and headed for the stairs, to the room she’d been using as her own. Steve sighed, standing up and patting Sam’s shoulder before heading to the kitchen. Considering he hadn’t eaten as much as he should over the past few days, Sam took that as a positive sign.

When they were both gone, Kate sighed. “How the hell are we going to find them both if they can’t get along long enough to figure out a good plan?” Kate wondered quietly, arms crossing against her chest and brown eyes exhausted.

Sam sighed. “I don’t know, Kate,” he admitted. “I don’t know. But we’ve got to figure it out, and soon.”

* * *

 

Later that night, Steve found Natasha out on the patio.

Steve knew he’d gone too far. Months on the road, months hunting for Bucky had put him on edge, and the idea that they’d gotten this close to just lose him again nearly made his heart stop. But he knew that no one was going to be saved unless they were able to work together.

That didn’t even bring in the point that Steve did not want to fight with someone he considered a very good friend.

He had to admit that the house Ivan loaned Natasha was a nice one. It was simple, with a small backyard and a patio hidden by an awning extending from the house, but enough room that he could potentially see kids running around. He hadn’t asked how exactly Natasha knew the Russian Ambassador to the United Nations well enough to ask him for a safe house in any city in Russia, but he wasn’t going to question it too quietly.

“Mind if I join you?” Steve asked simply.

Sitting on the chair of a small lawn table, Natasha shrugged. “Nothing’s stopping you,” she pointed out, watching a fountain of a ballerina in the middle of the yard.

Steve nodded, sitting down in the other chair. For a few minutes, they sat in silence, and Steve knew he had to make the first move. “I’m sorry,” he mentioned. “For arguing. It’s just…”

“It’s the closest you’ve gotten for months and one mistake might result in a death or losing someone you love.” Natasha gave an exhausted smile before looking back over at Steve. “I have no idea what that feels like. I really don’t.”

Steve shook his head. “You know, even I can read the sarcasm in that sentence.”

“Good, you were supposed to.” Natasha sighed. “I’m sorry to. I just… it’s almost over. And this is where it’ll get the most complicated.”

Steve nodded in understanding. “I can understand that.” He looked around the backyard, leaning back. “You seem to know this place well.” Maybe he was poking a bear, but he was curious, and it was a way out of this conversation full of apologies that he knew he and Natasha could move on from.

To his surprise, Natasha opened up. “I used to come here as a child,” Natasha mentioned. Her voice was quiet as she gestured towards the fountain. “Ivan’s son and I would run around that fountain playing tag. Aliana would laugh and watch us.”

“Aliana?” Steve asked, glancing back towards her.

Natasha hesitated before replying, “Ivan’s wife. Closest thing to a mother I remember. She passed away when I was nine.”

Steve swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

“It was a long time ago,” Natasha replied. She leaned her head back. “One of the first people I couldn’t save.”

That comment nearly broke his heart, and Steve shook his head before looking back over at Natasha. “You know we’re going to save them, right?” Steve asked quietly. “Both of them. Clint and Bucky. We’re getting them out of this, alive, and we’re getting them out of Russia.”

Natasha smiled slightly, watching the fountain of her childhood before looking back over towards the super soldier. “Is that confidence or optimism?” she wondered.

Steve chuckled. “Let’s call it determination. Think that might get us to the endgame sooner than the other too.”

“Sheer determination and balls managed to stop Project Insight.”

“So it did,” Steve sighed, looking back towards the fountain, letting it wash away all of his frustrations if only for a moment. “And maybe it’ll be enough for this.”

Maybe, just maybe, it would be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Thor do in fact have a son in this universe. The circumstances surrounding that will appear in a oneshot either directly after this story or the next one.
> 
> Thungs are going to be fast this arc, so I'm very excited for everything to come together.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint sits in prison. Sharon arrives in Russia.

A few months ago, Clint Barton’s life seemed like it was finally coming back together.

After what happened with Loki, Clint admittedly hadn’t dealt with it the best way. When the smoke cleared and an alien invasion lay dead on the ground, all that remained was processing what exactly happened - the brainwashing, the death, the destruction, and the alien invasion he had a hand in stopping.

He’d done what any rational human would have done and disappeared to the wilderness of Alaska for several months. Or rather, he’d done what any human train wreck would do. Either one.

He would have stayed there longer, if Natasha hadn’t shown up out of nowhere, snow in her red hair and dead-set stubbornness in her eyes, and gave him a reason to go back. So he’d returned to civilization, reunited with family, and tried to rebuild a life he’d nearly lost.

The world was still standing where he’d left it. Loki was long since taken back to Asgard by Thor. Bruce disappeared into the world, though he remained in contact with Stark. Stark was… Stark was Stark. And Steve joined SHIELD, trying to cling to something that he might not have anymore, a purpose he might have lost along the way to being a hero.

Clint was starting to feel back to normal, especially after Thanksgiving. He felt like he could get back to the life he’d nearly lost while lost in Loki’s spell. Granted, his recovery was long and hard and he knew that he was nowhere near back to the man he once was, but he accepted that he could become a new man, one that could handle all his trauma, including that caused by asshole Asgardian god. He’d even gone to fucking therapy.

His first real mission back happened to be tracking down some vigilante archer shooting muggers in Central Park. No one told him she was eighteen years old, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. A few months and a lot of delivery pizza later, Clint ended up with a mouthy protégé he and Natasha pseudo-adopted Coulson style.

Things were good. He adopted a dog, for god’s sake, and he still held to the belief that Lucky was one of the best things that ever happened to him, on the same level as Phil and Natasha and Kate. Things were okay and good and he felt more like the Clint Barton he’d nearly lost to Loki.

And then HYDRA was in SHIELD, and Clint Barton’s world was wiped away yet again.

He’d been on a mission in South Africa, undercover in the gang of arms dealer Klaue, and he’d been found out. He didn’t even know he’d been made until he’d been shot at a bar with them. It hadn’t been until he’d escaped that he found out what, exactly, had happened.

SHIELD was gone. SHIELD had fallen. All their files were online, protected by cyphers, but any cypher could be broken given enough time. And Klaue’s hackers had enough to figure out who he was, figure out who wanted him, and sell him to HYDRA for a quick buck. His cover was blown and he was made and everything and everyone he loved was in danger.

He’d managed to get away for a few hours, but not long enough to get out of the country, let alone get to a safe house that he and Natasha kept outside of SHIELD’s radar. He didn’t have time for a complete escape. So he made a choice. He tried to contact Nat, with no answer on her end. He called Kate next.

The brunette archer had answered, and he’d managed to warn her out of there. Kate was mentioned in those files. She was the center of some of those files, of that first mission back he’d had where he’d hunted a vigilante shooting arrows into muggers in Central Park. Kate was a target, and he’d warned her away to the best protection she could find – Natasha.

Nat was coming for him. He was sure of it. Kate, brat that she was, was probably tagging along and making sarcastic comments to make up for his absence. Hell, maybe they even had Lucky, though he hoped that someone was taking care of the dog.

They had to be coming for him. He knew they would be.

But after about six months of being held in a HYDRA-run gulag, Clint was starting to get wary.

He’d made his own escape attempts, at least three in the past six months. He’d been caught all three times. The first time they starved him for nearly a week. The second time, they’d locked him in his cell for three weeks. And the last time, they’d held him in solitary for nearly a month, with the occasional blast from a freezing cold jet of ice. 

Clint hadn’t made an escape attempt since.

Instead, he watched and waited and bided his time. He was a smart man, and no prison was completely secure. No prison was completely inescapable. Better to play the broken man than become the broken man.

His hearing aides broke the second time, and it was only dumb luck and the fact that the HYDRA assholes didn't do enough reading on him that they didn't know he was deaf. He'd been forced to keep them in over the last six months. His cell mate was good with electronics, and was able to repair his hearing aides on occasion for an extra slice of bread in the cafeteria. But god, did he miss the choice of being able to take out his hearing aides and not listening for a while, to just communicate through sign language with Natasha and Kate.

Clint woke up an hour before the guards would come in to bring everyone to breakfast. He stared up at the ceiling, counting the cracks in it. He got to one thousand the last time he had a chance to count them. Maybe he could get higher today.

“You awake, birdman?”

Originally, HYDRA hadn’t put him with a cellmate. They’d thought he was too dangerous to leave with someone, and they were technically right. He was very good at making friends in random places. And you couldn’t get much more random than a HYDRA gulag.

From what he knew about his roommate, Dmitri Bukharin made the tragic mistake of investigating HYDRA and pissing them off enough to be kidnapped and taken into custody. Granted, Dmitri didn’t seem to be that bad of a man. He was Russian military, knew his way around gulags, and left Clint alone for the most part. There was also the fact that he was the one helping with Clint's hearing aides and was keeping that a secret.

However, the fact that Dmitri knew Ivan Bezuhkov did make him lose a few points in his book.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” Clint confirmed, sighing and rubbing his eyes. “What do you want, Dmitri?”

“Only to check that you are awake and that they did not kill you in your sleep. I do not want to break in another roommate. You are easy to live with.”

Clint sighed. That was about the highest compliment one could receive in this damned gulag. “Thanks, I guess.”

Dmitri kept talking, and Clint sighed. It was going to be one of those days, when he was sure that he hated absolutely everything and wanted nothing more than to see his girls and his dog again. Especially his dog. And good, actual American pizza. God, he missed pizza.

“And another night without a rescue I see.”

This was something that came up usually every day. If Clint didn’t have the rows of tallies on the wall, carved from tiny rocks from the walls, he could have used this conversation to mark how many days he’d been here. Of course, the answer no matter how he kept track of time was that he’d spent far too many days in this fucking gulag.

Clint rolled his eyes, shaking his head before shaking the bunk slightly. “Keep talking, Dmitri. Something’s got to fill this silence.”

“You certainly won’t, birdman.”

“Hawkeye, Dmitri. Hawkeye.”

He could practically see the smirk on Dmitri’s face. “Birdman flows off the tongue better.”

“Of course it does.” Clint rolled his eyes again, sighing as he looked over towards the cell door. There was already movement outside, guards doing last minute walk-throughs to make sure there hadn’t been any murders overnight. Those were far more common than anyone might think.

He heard movement on the bunk below, and watched carefully as Dmitri rolled to his feet, stretching slightly. He shook his head, looking out the cell with a frown. Clint sat up slowly, his eyes narrowed as he heard distant screaming.

A few moments later, HYDRA guards came into view, dragging a prisoner along. Clint recognized him as someone he’d seen in the yard a few times, who ate a few tables down from him and Dmitri. The man kept screaming. They all knew where he was being dragged to. This gulag was hell, and the experiments conducted by the warden were only whispered about in the darkest corners of this gulag. Clint was lucky. He hadn’t been touched yet.

But he knew that they had their own plans for him, whenever they decided to enact them.

Dmitri gave a low whistle, wincing slightly before looking back at him. His brown skin looked darker in the dim lighting of the prison cell. “And there goes another one,” he muttered. “How long do you think we’ll be lucky, my friend?”

Clint wasn’t entirely sure if he and Dmitri could call each other a friend. But in this gulag, they watched each other’s backs. That was about as good as it could get between everything.

“I don’t know, Dmitri,” Clint sighed, listening as the screams of the man slowly disappeared. “But I do think that it can’t be much longer.”

He really hoped Natasha was coming. He hoped that she was on her way. Otherwise, he knew that he wasn’t going to get out of this place in his right mind.

And he would not be a weapon again.

* * *

 

 A long flight was so much better on a private plane. Halfway through, Sharon didn’t care that this was most likely the plane Tony and Pepper conceived their upcoming child in. The seats were comfy enough that she didn’t have to go anywhere near the bedroom suite on the plane. There was also more than enough room to store everything she brought – including the wings Tony redid for Sam. He was going to flip when he saw those wings.

To make things even better for Sharon, there wasn’t any wrestling with getting her arms and weapons through customs. Sharon was going to need to seriously consider becoming a billionaire so that she could take a private plane on missions all the time.

And because asset management would mean traveling a lot, Sharon knew that this private plane was just another attempt to get her to say yes to the job. For now, she could put that to the back of her mind. She had a rescue to help with, no matter how long it took.

When the flight landed, Sharon thanked the pilot and headed down onto the tarmac. There was a car waiting for her not far away, and Sharon wondered who Stark or the driver bribed in order to allow them that close. Sharon grinned when she saw who, exactly, was standing next to the car, waving over at him before dragging the bags over.

“Nice beard,” Sharon noted. “You can pull off the lumberjack aesthetic pretty well.”

Steve snorted. “It’s a better disguise than sunglasses and a hat?” he asked teasingly. “Nat says it helps me blend in pretty well around Russia.”

“Very much so,” she replied, nodding in approval.

And this was where the awkward greeting would come in. To Sharon’s surprise, Steve moved in first, hugging her quickly and warmly. Sharon hugged him back, and dimly could not remember the last time she’d been hugged. Maybe by Colleen during their vacation when they’d gotten drunk on wine and remembered Peggy and Sharon’s parents and everyone they’d lost. And even then, Sharon shrugged off the hug.

This hug, Sharon didn’t shrug off. Instead, she accepted and returned it, squeezing him gently before letting go and looking up at him. “Didn’t know you were my pick up here.”

“I needed to get out of the safe house we’re staying in, and I wanted to thank you in person for coming to help with this. I really owe you one,” Steve mentioned, heading over to the bags. He nodded his thanks at the pilot before taking the case containing Sam’s wings. “What all did you bring?”

“Sam’s going to love the one you just put into a trunk,” she explained, throwing her backpack into the backseat. “Stark’s been working on a new set for him since the Triskelion fell. He said it was a good distraction from worrying about impending parenthood.”

Steve’s eyebrows disappeared above his hairline, and his eyes widened. “Wait, are those a new pair of wings?” he demanded, sounding almost thrilled. “Because that’s going to help a hell of a lot with figuring out the layout of that base.”

Sharon smirked back over at him. “See, I didn’t come empty handed. I came with fun toys, uniforms for all of us, and a few extra tools to break out one man and find another.” She gestured at her purse. “Also in there are some Cold War files on that gulag, and HYDRA communications coming out from it for the past few weeks.”

He stared at her a moment. “I knew there was a reason I called you,” he noted simply, grinning at her before getting back into the car.

“Because I’m competent and awesome?”

“Mostly those reasons. Plus, you’re one of the few people I trust with this. The others are already at that house.” He glanced back at her, nodding as he got into the driver’s side.

The word trust could not be understated when it came to Rogers. It was a huge admission, that he trusted her, considering where they were six or so months ago. Steve Rogers trusted her enough to bring her in on a mission to rescue one Avenger and save his brainwashed best friend. And Sharon was not about to break that trust, not when she knew that they could figure out a way to stop any harm from coming to the people they were trying to save.

Steve had already moved onto the next topic by the time she buckled her seatbelt. “You got to see the beard before I shaved it at least.”

“You’re getting rid of it?” Sharon asked, frowning. “Because it actually is a pretty good look for you. It’s different. But not a bad different.”

“That’s why I’m getting rid of it,” Steve replied. “Bucky’s never seen me with a beard or anything like that. And if we’re gonna find him, I need to make sure that I look like the Steve he knew.”

Sharon nodded in understanding. The reason made sense to her, though she knew that it wasn’t going to be as easy as Bucky seeing a beardless Steve and remembering everything about his past life. And she knew that Steve understood that it wasn’t going to be as easy as that. Nothing about this rescue and this recovery was going to be easy. This was going to be difficult.

But they all excelled at winning difficult situations.

“You know what we’re going to have to do, right?” Sharon asked, looking back at him.

“No, what?” Steve replied, frowning over at her. He took another turn, heading into a more residential area of the city. She assumed that it was the way to the safe house, or at least a bit of a longer about way to it.

Sharon sighed. “I know you. I know Nat. Nat wants to go in now to get Clint out, and you want to be careful because you might spook off Bucky. True or false?”

Steve sighed, looking back outside and avoiding her gaze when she studied him. “True,” he replied. “To both parts.”

She nodded, pulling out her phone and checking to see if she got the intel that she’d asked Tony to try and dig up. To her relief, the email was waiting in the inbox, along with a description of the health insurance she’d get as the asset manager of the newest branch of Stark Industries. The man was completely incorrigible, and Sharon barely managed to hold back a snort of amusement at Tony’s persistence.

“What we’re going to need to do is find a way to have perfect timing,” Sharon mentioned, looking back at him. “We figure out when he’s going to strike. And then just as he goes in, so do we. We get Barton, and we find Barnes inside. Get a few more innocent people out.”

“And everyone wins,” Steve finished, knowing that it was a longshot. “You really think that can be done?”

Sharon shrugged nonchalantly. “Could a group of less than ten break through three battlefields, rescue countless prisoners of war, and raise hell for a Nazi splinter group for over a year?” she asked simply.

Steve managed a quiet smile. “I guess all members of our group have made a living of doing the impossible. Natasha, Sam, Kate, the two of us… between all of us, we could pull this off.”

“That’s our other advantage. All of us? We’re good. Even Kate, and she’s like twelve. And we have a lot of different skills. We can do this, Steve. I honestly think we can do this.” There was a conviction in her voice Sharon realized she hadn’t had in months, since the fall of SHIELD. Doing this, saving people who needed it, was what Sharon wanted to do. She wanted to help people.

And right now, she wanted to help Bucky and Clint.

They pulled up to a small house, surrounded by woods, within a half an hour. Steve sighed, unlocking the doors and getting out of the car. Sharon did the same, going to the trunk to get out what she needed to. She was glad to be somewhere she might be able to get a nap for an hour or two, though she knew it was unlikely. There was far too much to do.

Steve opened the front door, and set the first two of Sharon’s suitcases, filled with extra weapons and supplies, in the front hallway. The case containing Sam’s new wings remained in his hands, and he lead the way through the house and into the admittedly gorgeous kitchen that Sharon knew Colleen would have completely freaked out about.

Kate was sitting at the table, and looked up when she heard footsteps. “Sharon,” she greeted, waving over at her. “Long time no see.”

“Hey there, Kate,” she said, grinning at the younger girl. It was amazing to her that Kate was nineteen and in this, but she was clearly competent enough to handle it. If Natasha was confident in Kate’s abilities and that she could handle it, then Sharon believed that as well. “If you want to look in the green bag, I brought more arrows and a compact bow.”

Kate’s brown eyes widened and she grinned. “You’re like a fairy godmother,” she said simply, already scrambling out of the room, moving past Sam. At the stove, Natasha rolled her eyes as she tossed some more vegetables into a stew of some sorts.

“You made her happy at least,” Sam mentioned, standing up from the table and moving over to hug her gently for a few moments. Sharon hugged him bag, patting his back. “Good to see you, Carter.”

“It’s really good to see you too, Sam. I have a present for you too, actually,” Sharon mentioned, smirking over at Sam before gesturing at the metal case behind her. Steve was carrying it, setting it on the table in the kitchen. “Thought you might like something to use during this rescue mission.”

Sam froze when he saw it. “Who’s it from?” he asked, clearly trying incredibly hard to be calm and not completely flip out over what the present clearly was. He knew. Sharon could tell that he knew.

“It’s from Stark,” Sharon explained calmly, taking one of the bowls to help herself to the stew Natasha made. She couldn’t stop the grin on her face, not from the fact that Sam was clearly thrilled. “He thought that you might like it. He also said they’re upgraded and have a few new toys to play around with while in the field…”

“Oh my god,” Sam laughed, rushing over as he opened the metal case. An honest-to-god squeal came out of him as the wings came out, as strong as they’d ever been. “There’s red trim, holy shit, it’s not even my birthday…”

“That’s gonna be a lot of help with recon,” Natasha mentioned. “There’s some clear areas nearby, I’ll put a call in to Ivan to warn him what’s going on and you can try them out.”

Sam grinned, hugging Sharon again. “Will Stark be weirded out if I hug him the next time I see him?”

“Nah, it won’t be the weirdest thing he’s been through,” Sharon assured him, laughing slightly. Sam only nodded, looking down at the wings and smoothing his hand over them. Those wings were going to be a hell of an asset, and having Sam in the sky was going to help a lot as well.

“C’mon, I’m gonna take a look at these outside,” Sam said, nodding over at Steve and starting to carry the case out. Steve followed, shooting a grateful look at Sharon and mouthing thank you before walking away. The two were out of the house and into the backyard within minutes, checking the wings out.

When they were alone, Sharon sighed, looking back over at Natasha. She moved to her friend, squeezing her arm gently. “How are you doing?” Sharon asked quietly.

Natasha shook her head. “As good as I can,” she replied. Sharon was surprised she’d gotten that honest of an answer out of her. “We’re so close, Sharon, and if we make one mistake on this…”

“Well, that’s why we’re not going to,” Sharon said firmly, raising an eyebrow back at Natasha. “We’re not going to make a mistake here. That’s why I’m here, as a new pair of eyes. We can do this, Nat. We have to. There’s not another option. We’re getting them both out alive.”

“I hope you’re right, Sharon.” Natasha only looked back out the window. “I really hope you’re right. We just need to figure out when he’s going to strike. Because if it’s too long…”

“I know. If it’s too long we’re going to potentially lose Barton.” Natasha would understand that Sharon was trying to be clinical about this, bring in the spy point of view that she knew so well. It was the only option. Clint was Sharon’s friend too, and she wanted him safe. “There’s a balance between the two, and the key to that balance is figuring out when Barnes is going to make his move.”

“We’ve been watching the gulag, and we have Ivan sending us intel when he finds it,” Natasha mentioned. “But beyond that, we’ve got very little.”

Sharon went to her bag, pulling out a thick, dusty file before setting it on the counter. “That’s why I’m hoping that this will help,” she replied. “The dust is from the trip. Otherwise… that’s all the outward transmissions HYDRA has given in the last few weeks. Some are in cyphers, I’ve focused on the ones in Russian.”

Natasha gave a deadpan smile. “You brought me homework, huh?”

“Someone once told me my Russian is shit, so I figured you would be better at it,” Sharon pointed out.

“Your spoken Russian is shit. You can’t lose your American accent.” Natasha picked up the first page of the file, scanning through it. “I assume you can still read it.”

“That I can.”

For the next hour and a half, while Sam and Steve focused on making sure the wings were up to par and Kate tried to get in contact with anyone else who might have useful intel, Natasha and Sharon read through files and hoped to find something that might give them a clue as to when and where Barnes might strike. He obviously wouldn’t give a warning to HYDRA as a note saying he was going to attack at approximately some time, but Barnes was a smart man and would launch his attack when his target was at their weakest.

“Wait a minute,” Natasha said, taking a page from Sharon when she’d set it down. “I know this one…”

“Do you recognize the cypher?” Sharon asked. “I was putting it in the double check pile, I didn’t recognize or understand it…”

“It’s a cypher the Room used. It’s a cypher that my class made,” Natasha explained. Her eyes widened as she looked down at it. “Mass prisoner transfer. Tomorrow night. This gulag is being converted to a major HYDRA military base. And tomorrow night, most of the prisoners are being transferred out or executed.”

Sharon moved over, staring down at the files. “That chaos is all he needs,” she said simply. “That’s all he needs to get in and out without anyone noticing. He’s going in tomorrow night.”

Natasha stood up, turning off the stove. “Get the others, now,” she ordered. “We need to get ready, now. We don’t have a lot of time.”

They had barely twenty-four hours to plan how the hell they were going to plan this out. Sharon just hoped that it was enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dmitri Bukharin** \- Grigoriy Siyatvinda


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan comes to fruition, and a long-awaited reunion occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a shitty day, so here's an early chapter because I could really use some squealing.

He remembered this gulag.

This was where it all began. This was where they’d taken him after finding him in the snow at the bottom of the Alps. This is where the face that haunted his nightmares during the war returned to his waking hours. This was where Zola started the process that turned him from the good man he’d once been into the Fist of HYDRA.

He’d been a mess of pain and delirium and fever when a Russian soldier found him half-dead in the ice. He’d been dragged into a truck, somehow still alive. In hindsight, after months of research and struggling to regain his memories and all of the pain that came with realizing that he’d been used as a weapon for decades, he realized where his fate had changed.

In Zola’s lab, with the man himself standing over him with a sadistic smile.

Whatever Zola did to him, whatever chemicals he’d pumped into his bloodstream, it’d changed him. He’d noticed little things during the war, details that hadn’t made him pause back then. He could go days without really eating. His eyesight and reflexes were sharper, a deeper edge of brutality and protectiveness over the Commandos in combat.

Zola had used him as a guinea pig. He’d tried to create a new serum, and he’d succeeded.

That serum alone was what allowed him to survive, what allowed him to survive the fall from the train and be brought to the hell that was this gulag. This was where it had all began, where the Winter Soldier was born and raised and taught, where Bucky Barnes was erased and pushed back until he couldn’t even scream his protests anymore.

And Bucky Barnes could not wait to burn the place to the ground.

There was a prisoner transfer later that night. Most of the prisoners there – enemies of HYDRA, victims of the incentives program HYDRA loved so much, people in the wrong place at the wrong time, people HYDRA wanted as weapons – would be taken out. Only a very select few would remain there, those that they wanted to focus on first.

This wasn’t just a prisoner transfer. Tonight, equipment would be moved into there. A new machine that could wipe a man’s mind away. The Faustus machine, which they’d used on him a dozen times before until he’d begun developing a tolerance to it in the late eighties.

Whoever remained in that gulag after tonight would be turned against anyone they knew and loved within days. He dimly knew that they didn’t deserve that, and he hoped that they would be smart enough to escape during the chaos. He also hoped that Steve was smart enough not to get in his way on this.

He wasn’t dumb. He knew that Steve was following him, Steve and the man with the wings and even the blond woman with brown eyes who’d been taken hostage with Steve months ago. They were in the country with the woman he remembered as Natalia and the girl with the bow. They were here, and they were watching that gulag as they did. They were after someone on the inside.

Whether that man would survive or not, Bucky only hoped he was smart enough to escape on his own.

What he was focused on was destroying this base before it could pour out more weapons into the world, more men like him. He could not let that happen.

It wound end tonight. He was going to make damned sure of it.

* * *

 

Planning to take advantage of an attack on a Russian gulag was nearly impossible. Planning to take advantage of an attack on a Russian gulag under HYDRA control was even more impossible. Planning it in less than twenty-four hours should have been the top of the impossibility chain, a challenge that no one could have been able to tackle.

As it turned out, all it took was two soldiers, two spies, and an archer to do it right.

They didn’t have an exact time. They didn’t have all the intel. They didn’t even know if Clint was on one of the trucks taking prisoners away or if he was still inside that base. No matter where he was, they had their bases covered. They had their plan. They had plans upon plans upon plans, for anything that might go wrong.

Because Steve knew that something was going to go wrong. Something always went wrong. The question would be what went wrong that night, and if it would cost someone their life.

But he was proud of the fact that they’d managed to come up with a solid plan in a matter of hours. It was more than Steve thought they would get. They’d pushed past tension and arguments and everything else and managed to find exactly what they needed to do.

“See anything, Sam?” Steve asked quietly. He waited on a ridge overlooking the yard, his eyes flickering over everything. He caught a glimpse of a flash in the distance, and realized that it was a glass ceiling over what had to be the mess hall.

That, he could use.

“There’s three trucks filled with prisoners,” Sam reported. He was in the sky, high enough not to be detected, but low enough that his new equipment could scan the ground and tell him everything he needed to know. Steve was half impressed that Sam stopped freaking out about the new wings by now. “No sign, but I’m gonna send Redwing down, see if he sees Barnes or Barton anywhere.”

“I can’t believe you named your drone,” Natasha replied. She was on another side of the base, waiting for a chance to either sneak in with stealth or use the chaos of Bucky’s inevitable attack for her cover.

“He’d freaking awesome, of course I named him,” Sam argued. He was still gleeful over the new toys he’d gotten from Stark, though Steve had to admit that having eyes in the sky, both from Sam and Redwing, was incredibly useful.

“He’s got a point, Nat,” Kate admitted. “I mean, if I had a drone, I would totally name it. Probably something awesome. Hawkeye’s Eye in the Sky?”

“That’s an awful name, Kate,” Sharon laughed. She was taking easily to the rather Avengers-level tradition of bantering during a mission. Steve was amused by it too. It was familiar, something to focus on, something that he could handle.

“Hey, I had like two and a half seconds to come up with a name, I’ll come up with a better one later,” Kate protested. There was a pause before Kate warning, “I see the guards starting to head to the driver’s seats. I think they’re gonna head out. Do we know if Clint’s in one of those?”

“Redwing’s checking, he’s not seeing anyone matching Clint yet,” Sam reported. “There’s no blocking equipment or extra guards. They don’t we’re here.”

“They might not have extra guards,” Natasha pointed out. “This is a gulag in the middle of nowhere Siberia, over a hundred miles away from anything resembling civilization. Not even HYDRA is going to waste resources to protect something like this.”

“We’re not taking any risks,” Steve warned. He sighed, readjusting his cowl on his head. It was odd being back in the new uniform Sharon brought along, but it felt right somehow. And it resembled his old uniform far more than the one he wore in SHIELD. “Everyone keep your eyes open.”

As the first truck began to drive out, Steve felt a hard punch in his gut. Something was about to happen, he knew it.

“Is that a truck coming in?” Sharon asked, frowning. “Why now?”

“Everyone, stay alert,” Steve ordered through the comms. They’d assumed they would just move the prisoners out that night, that Bucky would use some other way, but as the truck came in, Steve realized exactly what Bucky’s plan might be. “I think this is it, everyone get ready, I repeat, get ready-“

It was then he heard the loud whistle that brought him back to World War II, the battlefields and blood and bodies, all over again.

A rocket launched through the air, aimed directly for the truck coming into the base. In a blast of fire and air and smoke, it exploded, sending shrapnel from what was inside and from the remnants of the truck. The truck slammed into the one that was leaving, knocking them both to the ground as men shouted on the inside, spewing out of the truck and beginning to rush about.

“Um, guys, I think that’s Barnes,” Kate said, her tone surprisingly casual. In fact, she sounded faintly impressed by the explosions. “Unless there’s someone else on the warpath against HYDRA.”

“Sam, check the prisoner trucks, see if Clint’s on any of those,” Steve ordered. Captain America was back, and he had a mission ahead of him. That was all he needed right now. “Bishop, move in, find a place to stay high, and keep an eye on everything. Warn of us what we can’t see coming. Carter, Romanoff, go in, now, east and west sides, I’m coming in from above.”

“Wait, what?” Sharon demanded. “What do you mean, coming in from above?”

Steve gave a dry smile. “If they didn’t want people coming in from above, they shouldn’t have put in a skylight.”

“Who puts a skylight in a Russian gulag anyway?” Natasha asked, clearly half offended by the idea of a skylight in a gulag. “They deserve you doing this to it if they’re dumb enough to put it in.”

Steve snorted in amusement, and Sharon said, “They’re all rioting. Looks like we have even more cover.”

“That just means it’s going to be harder to find Barton,” Kate pointed out. She was in her safe

“No, it’ll be easier for Barton to get away from HYDRA and start looking for us,” Natasha corrected. She sounded almost thrilled at the fact that a riot was starting. “This just made our job so much easier.”

“Everyone stay safe,” Steve repeated. “Keep in contact. Kate, you stay in your perch and keep an eye on everything. Sam, come and get me now, we’re doing this now. Sharon, Nat, get in.” He took a deep breath before saying, “Good luck, everyone. I’ll see you all on the other side.”

Sam came a few moments later, clearly thrilled with the new wings and already skilled with them. “You have a big breakfast?” the former pararescue asked, smirking at his friend before letting Steve take his foot and carry him carefully into the air.

“Only a decent lunch,” Steve replied, grinning as he left the ground.

It only took a few moments to get through the air, the chaos of the riot below them. When they reached the area above the skylight, Sam circled carefully, like the bird of prey he was named for. Steve held onto his foot, staring down and trying to find the best entrance. The only option was going to be using his shield.

“You sure you want to do this, Steve?” Sam asked. “There’s another way in.”

“Yeah, but this is the best one in.” Steve looked up, grinning at Sam and saluting with one hand. “See you soon, Sam.”

Steve let go of Sam’s leg and dropped through the air.

Halfway down to the sunroof, Steve pulled the shield from his back, curling into a ball and setting the shield easily below him. He crashed through the sunroof, heading down into the mess hall, bouncing off a table and landing easily on the floor. The shield was back in his hand in moments, and Steve moved back to his feet. Only a few guards were in the mess hall, and all were staring at him as if they couldn’t believe that Captain America himself just dropped through the air and landed down in front of them.

Steve smiled easily. “Fellas.” He threw himself into the fight a moment later.

* * *

 

Something was happening. And whatever it was, Clint Barton didn’t like it.

A few hours earlier, the guards started to round out the prisoners, leading them out of the cell blocks. Clint and Dmitri were left alone in their cell, and Clint remained on his bunk, watching the ceiling but observing everything else. Dmitri openly watched the proceedings, a deep frown on his face as he played with a rag he’d torn off the threadbare blanket they alternated nights with.

“What do you think is going on?” Dmitri asked, his voice quiet. The guards didn’t like when prisoners talked amongst each other in their cells. Dmitri seemed to realize, as Clint already had, that they had other issues they were focusing on.

“I don’t know,” Clint admitted. “But I doubt it’s anything that’s gonna go well for us.”

Nothing really had gone right for either of them in the month and a half they’d been cellmates, granted, but that was beside the point. This was something different. HYDRA was scrambling, moving prisoners, and whatever reason that was, it wasn’t good.

Within an hour, the cell block was empty. Silence was everywhere, and Dmitri and Clint were the only ones who remained. Dmitri paced his cell, taking deep breaths and trying to keep as calm as possible, but clearly terrified. Clint knew how to tell that easily enough. There was very little but fear in this gulag, but Clint knew that this was something out of the ordinary.

Maybe, just maybe, it would turn into a chance to escape.

Escaping into the wilderness wasn’t an option. God knew how far civilization was, and as good as Clint was, he could not survive running into the woods of Siberia with nothing but the clothes on his back. He would freeze within hours, die within a day. He would have to be smart about an escape.

Clint’s thoughts were broken by a yell of Russian. Dmitri ducked back instantly, his hands raised. Clint jumped down from the topic bunk, his eyes narrowed as he saw the HYDRA guards coming in, each one of them armed. Two guns were pointed at him, one was pointed at Dmitri.

“Let’s go,” the guard said, nodding at Clint. It was the same guard who’d tortured Clint more than once over the past six months. “Both of you follow me.”

Dmitri looked over at Clint. There was no way that they could make a break for it now, but Clint knew that if there was a chance, he would find it. Clint merely moved to his feet, taking a deep breath and watching everything around him, including the two guards leading them and the one guard behind them.

“Where are you taking us?” Dmitri demanded, his voice rough. He grunted in pain as the guard behind them hit him on the upper back with a rifle.

“Do not ask questions.” The guard in front turned around and smirked. “But let’s just say Hawkeye here will not have as much fun as you have. He might be happier to be among HYDRA when it’s done.”

Clint’s stomach nearly dropped. They’d been taunting him about brainwashing for months now, teasing the day that he would suffer as much as any enemy of HYDRA, until he became a part of HYDRA himself. It hadn’t happened, not yet, but it’d been a weight over his head, a silent deadline Natasha had until it was too late to save him.

And now it might be too late. Clint closed his eyes, hoping for a miracle.

For the rest of his life, until the day he died, Clint Barton would be amazed that he received a miracle.

In the distance, he heard an explosion, the telltale sound of a rocket exploding against a vehicle he’d heard more than a few times in his life. It was then that he acted.

Three guards against him was a bit of a challenge, especially when he’d been out of practice for several months, but Dmitri was there and would jump into a fight the second Clint started it. Clint lunged at the first guard, snapping his elbow behind him and hitting the nose of the guard leading up the rear. That guard went down quickly, his nose snapping and blood spurting as he cried out in pain, going down hard.

Clint ducked and kicked the legs out from the second guard, while Dmitri lunged and grabbed a knife from the guard with the broken nose. He heard the squelch of a knife sliding in and out of flesh, and the wet gasp of a stabbed man. Considering that this was a HYDRA guard, Clint didn’t care that much.

It was the guard in front of him that he really wanted to get at least a slice of revenge against. And that was what he got, managing to break him and slam him into the wall easily, grabbing the knife and the gun from his belt and tossing the gun to Dmitri behind him.

Clint slammed the guard into the wall again, harder, for his own pleasure. “Remember when you told me that no one was going to come for me?” he asked casually, tapping the edge of the knife against his cheek.

The guard nodded, looking like he was about to pass out. “Y-yes.”

Clint gave a grim smile. “You were wrong.”

He grabbed onto the HYDRA guard’s shirt, turning him around sharply and slamming his head against the wall. The guard was knocked out cold, falling to the ground limp. Clint glared down at him, half tempted to throw the knife into his back. But he didn’t have enough time for that. If he was right, if this was Natasha arriving for a rescue, then he needed to go.

And besides, with HYDRA’s attitude towards failure, he would suffer far more alive.

“So your girlfriend finally came for you?” Dmitri laughed, clearly amused. He shook his head before readjusting the gun, making sure it was loaded.

“I think so,” Clint confirmed. He bent down and took another gun. It wasn’t a bow, but a gun would have to do for now. God, his hands were practically itching to get a bow back in his hands. He missed that weight more than anything, and it was what he looked forward to the most. “I’ve just got to find her.”

There were distant shouts and gunshots, and Dmitri looked like Christmas came early. “Good luck finding her in a riot,” he said, his voice cheerful as he cackled and looked around. “This is going to be a fun night.”

Clint rolled his eyes, looking up at the ceiling before saying, “At least one of us is going to have fun.” He hesitated before offering his hand to him. “Good luck, Dmitri. Stay alive.”

Dmitri took Clint’s hand and squeezed it tightly; he gave a firm shake before he released it. “Every man for himself, birdman,” Dmitri replied, saluting Clint. “Good luck.”

“You too, Dmitri. I sincerely hope I never see you again.”

“Stay alive, Hawkeye.” Dmitri disappeared into the corridor, and Clint watched him disappear, knowing that this was going to be a long night.

Clint checked the gun, readjusted his new knife, and vanished into the chaos. He had a redhead to find.

* * *

 

With the riot above him, Bucky found the hidden entrance he remembered.

This gulag was decades old. There were hidden entrances everywhere, including ones that lead into the basement. The secret passages all lead into each other, and they were quiet enough that Bucky could complete his mission without any problem, sliding small bombs everywhere he could, where no one would notice until it was far too late.

Gulags were strong. But even the strongest gulag could not stand without support. And when he took out the supports, the gulag would fall. The rest of the explosives, the ones he’d been carefully planting as he rushed through the building, would do that work.

This gulag would fall tonight. And Bucky didn’t entirely care whether he survived.

And that was when he heard the HYDRA guards half panicking in the chaos.

Not even HYDRA would send their best to the middle of nowhere Siberia. But these guards were untrained at the absolute best. They were honestly pitiful, which was why Bucky was avoiding them as he slipped through the secret passages. That was until he heard what one was saying as he struggled to get word out on what was happening.

“There’s a riot,” one said in a radio. Communications were shoddy at the best of times in this station, and now, during this riot and this attack, everything else was shot to hell even further. “There are enemy agents here, an archer outside, Captain America somewhere inside the gulag, we think he is here for the archer-“

Captain America was somewhere inside the gulag. He was here. They’d figured out when he would attack, and Captain America was inside the gulag rigged to blow when Bucky pushed the button on his belt.

“Dammit, Steve,” he growled. “Dammit.”

That was a complication he didn’t need, one that he was going to need to correct. And fast.

* * *

 

 Natasha was halfway through the second floor when Sam’s voice came over the comms.

“Barton is on none of the prisoner transports,” he warned. “I repeat, Barton’s not any of the transports. He’s still inside somewhere. Redwing checked all three of them, there’s no sign, and he doesn’t see him around any of the rioting prisoners. He’s somewhere inside.”

“This is Romanoff, I copy,” Natasha acknowledged grimly over the comms. “Is everyone alright?” They’d managed to get this far, and she would not let them lose anyone in this damned gulag. Not when they were about to get Clint back in the first place.

“I’m good,” Sharon replied first, her voice grim. There was a distant grunting sound, followed by a gunshot over the comms. “There’s some congestion where I am near the cells, but beyond that, nothing much. The guards know we’re here though.”

“Their communications are mess, that’s why things are going so well,” Steve guessed. He’d made his typical dynamic and dramatic exit and managed to get through most of the base as he searched for Bucky. “They’re too caught up in the chaos to do something about it. The riot’s not helping.”

“They might not know Barnes is here then,” Kate pointed out. She was keeping an eye on the riot and trying to see if there was any sign of Barnes. “They could be assuming we’re behind all of it.”

“For now,” Sam added. “God knows how long that’s going to last.”

“Long enough that we can find Clint and Bucky,” Sharon said firmly. She seemed to be taking the role of optimist for the mission. Natasha would have never put Sharon and optimist in the same thought process before, but there she was.

Then again, she never expected to be infiltrating a gulag on a rescue mission with a nineteen-year-old archer, Captain America, an ex-pararescue, and a SHIELD legacy.

Fate created such odd bedfellows. It created even odder groups of friends.

Natasha moved to the first floor, shooting down a HYDRA guard. For the most part, the prisoners were leaving her alone. It was a blessing she was not going to question, especially as she kept searching for Clint. She hurried down the stairs, heading into a long and surprisingly well-lit hallway. Her hair flipped around, as she looked around, sighing in frustration.

“Dammit, Barton, where are you?” she muttered before heading down another hall.

Someone grabbed her shoulder, and she acted on instinct. Natasha lunged, hooking her legs around the man’s neck and sending them both down. To her surprise, he rolled forward, moving so she was on top of him, facing him, like he knew the move by heart and knew just how to counteract it.

Natasha’s widow bites sparked, and she started to push down. And then she saw his face and froze.

A grin sat on his face, so large she sure it hurt. Despite the numerous bruises on his face, his gray eyes sparked with life and joy. Clint Barton beamed up at her with a smile stronger than a thousand suns. Nothing could have stopped the smile that was slowing breaking across her own face.

“Hey, Nat,” Clint greeted, a laugh slipping out. It was far and away the most glorious sound Natasha had heard in the last six months. “About time you showed up.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gulag falls.

Really, in the middle of a Russian gulag in a riot, with HYDRA everywhere and a potentially unstable Barnes lurking around any corner, there was only one thing Natasha could do when reunited with Clint for the first time in six months.

She leaned down and kissed him, hard and desperately, putting in it everything she wanted to say but couldn’t.

Clint kissed back, eagerly and hungrily, his hand digging into her red hair as he sat up, his other arm going around to her to pull her close. It was everything Natasha wanted, and for the first time in six months, she allowed herself to think that they might win today, that every single one of them might walk out of this gulag alive and well and safe.

They’d found Clint. After six months, they’d found him. Every bit of determination she’d thrown into this paid off.

She broke off the kiss first, only because they both needed air. Natasha looked down at him, green eyes studying every bit of him. He had a healing black eye, a cut on his forehead that would clearly leave a minor scar, and more than a few bruises, but he was alive. He was alive and probably in better shape than he’d been in after several of their missions together. He was alive.

“You’ve got no idea how happy I am to see you,” Clint said, his voice lost in her shoulder. He took a deep breath before resting his forehead against hers. “God, Nat…”

She shook her head. “You had to know I was coming for you.” Because nothing would have ever stopped her from finding him. Not HYDRA, not any force on this planet or beyond. She found him. He was alright. He was him. She had found him.

She found him.

Clint shook his head. “I knew you were. Just thought it would be quicker than that. Get caught sight-seeing along the way? I’m sure the mountains around here are pretty…”

Natasha snorted, hitting his arm lightly before climbing off of his lap and moving to her feet. Clint did the same, a hand still on her arm, as if he had to touch her to convince himself that this was real. “C’mon, you think I would go sight-seeing without you?” she asked.

“Um, yeah, especially with my protégé.” Clint glanced around them when they heard distant shouts. “Kate’s okay?”

“She listened to you, got out of New York just in time,” Natasha explained. She found a second gun on her belt and handed it to Clint. He preferred the type she carried when he had to use guns. Clint shot her a grateful look and followed. “She’s been with me every step of the way.”

“I knew she would be,” Clint laughed. There was an edge to his voice that was clearly pride in the teenager he’d been training, a woman Natasha had to admit she was proud of too. “Told you recruiting her was a good idea. And Lucky?”

“Happily relaxing at the farm. Cooper and Lila convinced Laura to get a dog when Lucky goes home, apparently,” Natasha replied. She knew that Clint would ask right away about Lucky. That would be Clint’s main concern.

Clint nodded, satisfied with the answers she’d given. With everything he’d been wondering for the past six months out of the way, it felt like a heavy weight was gone from his shoulders. He had a way to find answers. He had a way out. He was beyond relieved. “Sounds like you’ve got everything handled, as always.”

“Did you expect anything different?”

“From you?” Clint smiled. “Never.”

“Good.” Natasha glanced down the hallway, eyes narrowing when she saw the multiple HYDRA guards gathering, clearly struggling to figure out what the hell they should do next. It was almost amusing to see them as lost as they clearly were. “Now we need to get out of here.”

Her partner smirked. “Sounds like fun. I haven’t had a good fight in six months.”

“Hope you’re not out of shape.”

Clint smirked back over at her, rolling his eyes fondly. It was then Natasha realized that she needed to let everyone else know that Barton was alright. She found the extra comm she’d snuck onto her belt earlier, and pulled it from the pouch, handing it over to Clint. The archer nodded at her before sticking it deep into his ear, and Natasha waited until she heard the quiet beep of Clint’s comm joining their system.

"We've got a couple of people here. Kate, Rogers, Sharon Carter, and Sam Wilson. You've never met him." Natasha looked him over with a smile before turning on the comm. “I have Barton,” Natasha reported. She grinned when she heard the few gasps and a squeal from who she knew had to be Kate. “He’s on comms. Say hi, Clint.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “C’mon, guys, six months? Took you long enough. I missed the season finale of _Dog Cops_ and everything,” he said, unable to keep the laugh out of his voice, unable to hide the relief and joy at his liberation.

“You didn’t miss much, it was disappointing.” Kate laughed, and Natasha could just imagine the grin on her face.

“No spoilers, Kate!” Clint protested, scowling deeply. “Let me watch it when I get to civilization.”

“Good to hear your voice, Barton,” Steve said, clearly relieved that he was alright. “It's been a while.”

“How was the prison food?” Sharon wondered, the smirk clear in her voice, colored right next to the relief of one part of this mission going right.

“Nice to meet you, Clint,” Sam’s voice came a second later. “Heard a lot about you.”

Clint scoffed. "I'm so popular, it's amazing. Good to hear your voice too, Cap. Welcome to the fun, Carter, nice to meet you, Wilson. Thanks, guys."

"What, you thought we were gonna leave you here? There's no good pizza or anything," Kate protested.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Okay, we can all chat later. Focus. We’ve still got to find Barnes.” She turned off her own comm a second later before glancing back at her partner and adding, “Sam and Mia have been going on dates. Just for further reference.”

Clint frowned, looking almost bewildered by everything he heard over the comms. “Mia gets a date, Carter joins up with us, and I miss the season finale of _Dog Cops_? HYDRA is gonna pay for this.”

“Of course, yastreb.” She gestured towards the HYDRA guards still panicking and trying to decide what the hell they were going to do. Too bad their day was about to get a hell of a lot worse with the reunion of the Black Widow and Hawkeye. “Want to ruin their day?”

Clint grinned back at her. “Let’s.”

* * *

 

After the confirmation over comms that Barton was alive and well, Sharon noticed that there seemed to be almost a stronger sense of determination over all of them. Granted, she hadn’t seen any of them since, but it was obvious from the way that Clint and Kate were making jokes over comms, Steve’s tone seemed almost stronger, Sam’s voice lighter, and Natasha’s voice containing almost enjoyment over this mission.

One victory on this mission was enough to make them think that they could handle the rest of it, that they could find Barnes.

The plan was to find him and try and convince him to come with them. Steve was confident that he could convince Barnes to come along, given enough time to have an actual conversation. Sharon wasn’t sure if he was right or not, but she knew that Steve deserved a chance to try. And now that their other major problem was solved with Barton’s rescue, Steve would have that time.

“Has anyone seen anything of Barnes?” Sharon asked, frowning slightly as she moved up another stairwell.

Her goal at the time was clear. This was a gulag and a prison, and considering how much HYDRA relied on surveillance when it came to their prisoners and their intelligence, the best way to try and track down Barnes was to get eyes in the entire gulag. That meant getting to the security center trying to track him down. He was somewhere in the gulag, that much was obvious from the rocket earlier. The trick would be to find him.

“Nothing yet.” Steve’s voice was grim, but not void of the dogged determination she’d long begun associating with him. “But I’m not giving up.”

“None of us are,” Natasha confirmed simply over the comms. “We’re going to find him, Steve.”

“Wait, who is Barnes again?” Clint demanded, clearly confused. Sharon remembered then that he’d been in a gulag for six months, of course he would have no idea what the hell they were talking about. “Is there another prisoner here we’re trying to find?”

“Long story, Clint,” Kate replied, frowning. “HYDRA is starting to pull out, guys. I think they’re abandoning the base.”

“Seems like keeping a gulag like this is a lot more trouble than it looks,” Sam confirmed. He was still up in the sky, too high to be a target but at a perfect altitude to keep an eye on everything happening on the ground.

“The security center’s abandoned,” Sharon noted as she came in, her eyes narrowing. That was not a good sign. They might be abandoning this gulag, but there was no reason for this security center to be abandoned so quickly.

She then realized it wasn’t abandoned. At least not willingly.

“I’ve got bodies,” Sharon mentioned, staring at the one in the corner. The neck was broken, his head at an unnatural angle. Another had a gunshot wound to the dead center of his head, just like the HYDRA agents Barnes killed while she and Steve escaped from HYDRA. “Barnes was up here. These kills are fresh, guys, I don’t know how he got in and out of here without me seeing.”

“You’re in the security tower?” Steve demanded.

“That’s right,” Sharon confirmed, moving towards the chair sitting at the monitors and sitting down.

“I’m on my way there.”

Sharon sighed. “Acknowledged.”

She went to work, looking through every bit of footage that she could see, trying to find any sign of Barnes. Something wasn’t right about this. Barnes shouldn’t have been able to get into this room without her seeing, considering that there was a single stairwell up into this room, and she’d been near it most of the time. Barnes was good, but he wasn’t that good. There was something she was missing.

Sharon was in the room for a few minutes when Steve hurried in, pulling the cowl off his face when he saw her. The super soldier looked every bit the hero he was, but the look on his face was almost panic. “I haven’t seen anything of him,” Steve admitted as he hurried over, looking at the screens himself.

He wasn’t talking over comms, and Sharon realized that the statement was for her and her alone. “That doesn't mean he's not here. He’s here somewhere,” she pointed out, typing away and trying to pull up new security footage. She frowned slightly as she looked at the room before saying, “Wait…”

Steve frowned, watching her as she went back to work. “You thought of something?”

“Look up above your head to the right,” Sharon ordered. Steve did so, his eyes widening when he saw a shattered camera above them. She went on further, “I can pull up the footage of what happened in here, see where he came from.”

“Do it.” Steve watched intensely as Sharon pulled up the footage in question.

To his surprise, the guards in the room were killed only twenty minutes ago. “He’s close by, he was here just before you came,” Steve realized, exchanging a look with Sharon.

Sharon nodded, frowning as she pulled up the rest of the footage. They watched as the guards chattered on, not realizing that their lives would be ending in a matter of minutes. The first guard seemed to realize something was wrong first, looking to a corner out of view of the camera and standing. He went down with a bullet in his head seconds later. The second guard scrambled to his feet, but was grabbed by Barnes. His neck snapped and he went down, and Barnes disappeared yet again - but not before putting a bullet into the camera in question.

“This was a move to destabilize HYDRA’s attempts at controlling this,” Sharon murmured. “It’s a smart strategic move.”

Steve nodded slowly, frowning as Sharon replayed the clip. The kills were sharp and clinical, his movements filled with the lethal grace he'd seen in DC. “He didn’t come from the stairs, so where did he come from?”

Sharon watched the clip again before standing, retracing Barnes’ steps carefully. “He came from over here,” she mentioned, frowning as she put a hand on the door. She pulled away, her eyes widening. “It moved a bit. It’s a fake wall, Steve.” She frowned. “Wait, do… do you hear that? It started when I moved the wall…”

There was a high pitched beeping, and Steve’s eyes widened in horror when he realized what it was. “Sharon!”

Sharon was already moving back, but Steve lunged for her, grabbing onto her and throwing her to the ground before moving the shield over them. An explosion rocked the room, and Sharon gasped, keeping her head low and covered by the shield. Bits of rubble covered them both, and Steve cried out in pain when a larger piece hit his leg. He managed to kick it off when the rubble stopped falling, and Steve moved carefully to his feet with Sharon.

“Are you alright?” he demanded.

Sharon nodded in confirmation, looking over herself carefully. “I’m good, you?” she demanded, looking back towards the rubble of the ground. “What the hell…”

Steve grunted his answer, gasping as he tugged a hair through his messy hair. “That was a bomb,” he said, staring across at the now huge hole in the side. To Sharon’s surprise, it didn’t lead to the outside, but to a hidden stairwell.

“That’s how he got in and out of here so quickly,” Sharon realized. “That’s how he’s moving around here without any of us seeing him. There’s hidden passages all over this gulag.”

“That’s how I’m gonna find him,” Steve said, his eyes narrowed. He put a hand to his comm. “Barton, I need you to talk to me. What’s the lowest that this gulag goes?”

“There’s a basement. Not used for much of anything. Torture and isolation wards are on a different floor,” Clint confirmed. “They don’t keep anyone or anything down there, it’s mostly just support structures…”

Sharon’s face went white at the mention of support structures. “Oh my god,” she whispered, looking back over at Steve. “Support structures. He has _bombs_ , Steve.”

Steve’s stomach flipped in horror at the realization. “He’s going to bring the building down.” He put a hand to his comm before barking an order in what was as much a Captain America voice as he ever gave. “Barnes is going to bring the gulag down, everyone get out, now! Sam, Sharon and I are in the security watchtower, come in for a pick up, now.”

Sam sounded confused as he pointed out, his voice a bit sharp, “I can’t carry both of you, Steve.”

“You’re not.” Steve looked back down at her. “You looked at the layouts, is there a way out of the basement?”

Sharon nodded, trying to think of exactly what she remembered. “There should be an exit directly in there, leading from the basement to the front hallway or just outside of it.”

“Perfect.” Steve looked down at the dusty and sweat-covered cowl, hesitating for a second before abandoning it on the ground. “Sam’s going to get you, go get the car. We’re going to need to get out of here before the Russian military decides this is the perfect time to finally do something about this building.” Steve turned, already hurrying to the secret passage.

“Steve-“ The super soldier was already halfway to the stairwell, but he turned and looked back towards Sharon. The blonde hesitated before saying, “Be careful. Please.”

His face softened for a few brief moments, and he swallowed. He half looked as though he wanted to say something he couldn’t think of.

It lasted a few seconds too long. Sharon shook her head, knowing that this was dumb. He had to go and do this. He'd survived worst before. She had faith that he could survive this. But there was an undeniable edge of worry, of fear of what he was going to be walking into down there. She was smart enough to know that he was almost about to say something, from the way that he looked at her.

But right now, right there, might not be the best time for any words. Not when Steve and Sharon knew exactly what he had to do.

Steve nodded at her, blue eyes lit with an apology, and hurried down the stairs.

He was closer than ever before, and he would not lose him now.  

* * *

Down in the basement, Bucky was almost done with the supports. His eyes flickering over towards where he knew the exit was. He could get over there, but the remote control for the bombs was not that strong. It would trigger the next one in the chain, but he had to be close enough for that. He swallowed as he looked back down at his hands, closing his eyes.

He had to make sure this gulag burned. It had to burn. It had to be destroyed, and he couldn’t let it live, but he knew that there was every chance he wouldn’t make it out of here. Bucky Barnes died once in this gulag. Maybe it was fitting that he died a second death there.

“Bucky?”

He whirled, gun in his hand as he stared across a man he’d been avoiding for six months, a man he’d been running from. A man who refused to give up on him, even now, even after he’d nearly beaten him to death months ago.

Goddamn punk.

He felt a lump in his throat, and swallowed hard, trying to dislodge it. “Steve.”

Steve swallowed, trying to stop the shaking in his hands. He recognized him. That was a start. It was more than he had when he’d been face to face with him on the streets of DC months ago.

“Yeah,” Steve said, managing a weak smile, blinking back a few tears. “It’s me. It’s me, Bucky. You remember me?”

Bucky closed his eyes. “Your mom’s name was Sarah. You used to put newspapers in your shoes.”

He remembered all of it. After the first month of drug withdrawals and panic attacks, he’d done research. Some memories came back on their own. Some of the research he had was enough to prove that Steve told the truth about who he was, about who he’d been before the Fist of HYDRA. For a lot of the memories, he had the clinical happenings, not the emotional connections. Even some of those were coming back though.

There was an actual smile on Steve’s face now, and he nodded. “Yeah.” He kept his hands where Bucky could see them, the shield at his back. The shield Bucky remembered holding before his fall. “Yeah, that’s me. Bucky, we need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

“I can’t let this place stand,” Bucky said. “It’s where… it’s where I was-“

Steve’s eyes widened when he realized exactly what he meant. “This is where they took you. After the fall.”

Bucky gave a scoff of laughter, shaking his head. To Steve's relief, he at least lowered the gun. “I’m not letting it stand, Steve. I can’t.”

“And I can’t let you do this to yourself.” He gestured at the bombs all around them, on the supports, up above their heads, everywhere. Bucky was nothing if not thorough when he had a goal in mind. “What happens after this, Bucky?”

The question caught him by surprise. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does,” Steve replied, his voice a bit harder as he said, “Your life matters.”

“Bullshit.” He shook his head, slamming his metal hand into the support. Bits of rubble fell to the ground, and the brunet man turned back to look at Steve with his eyes blazing. “Bucky Barnes’s life mattered. I’m not sure I’m him anymore.”

That drew a flinch out of Steve, and he felt a savage pleasure at getting some sort of reaction out of the golden boy that Captain America was. That didn’t stop Steve from pressing on.

“Even if it doesn’t, your life still matters. To me. To a lot of people.”

Bucky scoffed, raising an eyebrow at him. "You mean to HYDRA? Yeah, I'm sure it does. They're pissed they lost their weapon."

Steve swallowed, but didn't answer. That was common sense. HYDRA had to know that he was alive and hunting them down. “How much do you remember?” he asked. He had to know. He had to know how much Bucky remembered about himself.

He shook his head. He did not want to go into this right now, but he couldn’t lie to him. “Bits and pieces. Enough to know you’re telling the truth.” He looked back at him, taking a deep breath. “I can’t just let this place stand. They’ll come back and they’ll take more lives and they’ll hurt more people.”

“I won’t let them,” Steve promised. “None of us will. None of us are going to let HYDRA hurt anyone else.”

Bucky closed his eyes. “Steve, go,” he said simply. “Walk out of here, now. This doesn’t have to involve you.”

Steve shook his head, coughing against the fire. “Not without you,” he spat. “Not again.” He shook his head before saying, “You said that you don’t know if you’re Bucky Barnes anymore. You don’t have to be. Because I know for a fact I’m not the Steve Rogers that was on the train.”

Maybe that was the truth he’d been avoiding for so long. He could not go back to the man in the war who loved a pretty British agent and had a team behind him and a war so clear cut and dry in front of him. Nothing was going to be like that again. He could not go back to the Steve Rogers he was, no more than Bucky could go back to the Bucky Barnes he was.

They couldn’t. Not after everything they’d been through.

_Sometimes the best we can do is to start over._

They had to start over. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had to start over because they could not go back to who they were. They could never go back to the past, to Peggy and her steely competency and the Commandos and the camaraderie they'd had on that battlefield. 

But, Steve realized as he thought back to Sam and Sharon and Natasha, Clint and Kate, even Tony Stark, maybe they could both have something in this future.

“You don’t have to be Bucky Barnes anymore,” Steve pointed out, his voice cracking slightly. “You decide who you are, Bucky. Not me. Not HYDRA. You do. I didn’t lie to you before, and I’m not lying to you now. You get to decide who you want to be. You can start over.”

Bucky stared across at him, swallowing heavily as he looked back up at the ceiling. There were tears on his face, and Steve knew that there were more than a few. Steve knew that he was getting through to him. He knew it. He just had to keep pushing, just had to keep hoping. He could get through to his best friend, he knew it.

“Just come with me, please,” Steve pleaded. “I can help. I want to help you. It doesn’t matter if you want to be a friend anymore. I just want to know you’re safe.”

The ex-assassin didn’t answer, merely breathing heavily as he stared across at Steve. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do, if he deserved a chance to figure out who he was after what he’d done to so many innocent people.

But no matter what he chose, he knew what he had to do first.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered. He pressed the button to trigger the bombs, knowing that the shield, at least, might protect Steve. His life would be the one on the line.

“Bucky, no!” Steve shouted.

The ceiling collapsed in a rain of fire and mortar and stone as the bombs exploded, and Steve lunged for Bucky to save him one more time.

* * *

 

Really, it was almost _fun_ fighting to get out of the base. Combat was something Clint almost missed. He missed being able to move and defend himself, and he would never deny the not-so-small pleasure he got from punching a few of the guards who’d made his life hell over the last six months.

They were out of the gulag and waiting among the tree line between a field and the hills within minutes, with both breathing heavily and covered with sweat. Both Natasha and Clint were both smirking, both glad to be out of there, reunited. The months of waiting and hunting and hoping for a miracle had been completely worth it.

“I’ve still got it,” Clint chuckled, smirking at Natasha.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Natasha wondered, shaking her head as she slipped a knife back onto her belt.

“Clint!”

The older agents turned at the sound of the shout. Kate slid down the embankment, nearly out of arrows but uninjured and completely ecstatic. She hurried to her mentor, and Natasha couldn’t help a small smile as she lunged for Clint and hugged him tightly, the older archer’s arms going around her. There were beaming grins on both of their faces that nearly broke Natasha’s heart.

Those were her people. And she was damned glad that the three of them were back together.

“Hey there, Katie-Kate,” Clint said. She had to wonder if his face hurt from that grin, the same one he’d given earlier. In fact, she was fairly sure the grin hadn’t left his face since that kiss in the hallway. “Clearly you did a good job listening to me. That’s a first.”

“Shut up.” Kate hit his shoulder lightly, smirking up at him before looking back at Nat. “Sam’s still in the sky, he brought Sharon down a few minutes ago, she’s bringing the car around. No sign of Steve or Barnes.”

“Barnes?” repeated Clint, frowning as he looked back over at Natasha. “Again, who the hell is Barnes?”

“A very long story,” Natasha replied, knowing that they did not have the full time to explain everything that happened in the last six months. “Long story short, the Winter Soldier –“

“The one that shot you a few years back?” Clint demanded, frowning. “Wait, why the hell are we looking for him? Do I get to shoot him?”

“No, you do not get to shoot him, now pay attention.” Natasha gave a long suffering sigh and eye-roll. “The Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes. Steve’s best friend. He survived his fall, got brainwashed by HYDRA, and has been on a revenge campaign for the last six months since breaking free from HYDRA in DC. And he’s the one behind this.”

“So you piggy backed a rescue on his plan of blow shit up?” Clint asked, clearly a bit taken aback by everything. At least he wasn’t questioning whether they’d all lost their minds.

“Basically,” Natasha confirmed.

“You miss a lot in prison,” Kate added, smirking back up at her mentor as she looked back towards the gulag. “Steve and Barnes are the only ones still in there. Most of everyone else has fled.”

The car they’d used as their transportation to the gulag came down the hill a moment later, Sharon hurrying out of the driver’s seat. “Where’s Steve and Sam?” she demanded. She did smile over at Barton, patting his shoulder before turning her attention to Nat.

Sam descended from on high at that moment, shaking his head as he tugged off his goggles. “No sign of Steve on the outside, he’s still inside,” he explained. “I don’t know how-“

Sam’s comment faded as the sounds of explosions overtook it.

All five present looked sharply towards the gulag. The explosions started down below, rocking the gulag and bringing down the towers. The explosions went higher as the building collapsed, disturbing the bombs that didn’t have a trigger attached to the ones at the base. The gulag was coming down, and coming down hard and fast. And Steve and Barnes were still inside of it, probably at the lowest part.

“No,” Sharon whispered. “No, no…”

The gulag collapsed completely, burying whoever might be unlucky enough to be underneath. Sharon took a step forward, only stopped when Sam grabbed onto her arm. Dead silence reigned among them all, Clint’s face looking pale as he realized that Steve might have died in a partial attempt to help rescue him, died as a result of his determination to save another friend.

For a few moments, there was only shocked silence. Natasha was the first to move.

"C'mon," she ordered, moving towards the ruins first, as fast as she could. The others followed, with Kate moving to the jeep and driving it towards them.

"Sharon, where's the entrance to the basement you mentioned?" Sam demanded as he hurried over, dropping his wings to the side of the jeep when Kate pulled up.

The blonde in question paused, her eyes flickering around before she lead the way to a small area. "Over here," she said, grunting as she started to pull away at the first piece of rock. Sam and Clint moved to help her, and the three together managed to get it out.

There was rubble everywhere. There was no sign of movement. But the five of them refused to stop now, not when they'd made it this far.

"Where the hell are they?" Clint demanded, his voice low as they pulled another one.

“One survived a fall to the bottom of an ice-filled canyon, the other survived seventy years trapped in ice,” Kate snapped. Pain coated the edge of her voice, and a wince crossed her face. “They’re alive. They’ve got to be alive. We didn’t all get through this just to lose two people now.”

Sharon stared across at the rubble, her hands curled into fists at her side. “C’mon,” she murmured, “Give us a sign. Give us a sign, Steve, please.”

It was then when she heard it, when all of them heard it - the distant sound of a cough, a muffled yell.

"Steve!?" Natasha called, moving towards it. She took a deep breath before repeating, "Steve, we're getting you out."

There was one last piece of rubble, too big for any of them to move. Sharon noticed the slight movement to it, and she moved to the far side of it and called, "Steve, I need you to push it. As much as possible. We're gonna get it off you guys."

It took all five of them to do it, all of them pushing with every strength, validated by the fact that they could hear Steve down below. They might not have lost him. They'd gone this far on determination and stubbornness alone, and it was determination and stubbornness that managed to get the five of them, along with Steve, to move the rock. It rolled a bit away, slamming down hard and loud a few yards away. Kate nearly fell in, Sam grabbing onto the back of her jacket to keep her steady.

Sharon rushed forward, waving away some of the dust. Her eyes widened when she saw movement down below, smaller pieces of rubble rolling off a moving form. "Clint, Sam," she snapped, looking back up. "We've gotta get him out."

Steve lifted his head, taking a deep breath of oxygen and grunting as he handed the shield up. "He's unconscious, but okay," he reported, grunting as he started to haul up Barnes. Clint moved forward, taking Bucky by the arms and pulling him to solid ground, Sam grabbing the first aid kit from the truck in the meantime.

Sharon reached down, offering a hand to Steve. Steve knew that he could have gotten out on his own. But the look on her face made him reach out for her hand, grunting as she helped to pull him up.

He made it to solid and flat ground before going down into a sitting position, breathing heavily. "He's alright," Steve repeated, watching Sam check him over. "He wanted to blow up the base, this is where.. this is where they brought him. He knows who he is. He remembers..."

Sharon knelt down, squeezing his shoulder before handing over a bottle of water. "You did it," she said simply. "You did it, Steve."

Steve's eyes flickered to her. "You're alright?" he asked quietly.

She seemed surprised, but nodded. "I'm alright. You're alright. Barnes is alright. We're alright." She squeezed his hand gently, and Steve's eyes flickered from her to the others in turn.

Sam was still checking over Bucky, but seemed confident that other than some cuts and bruises, he was alright. Clint looked half confused by everything, but was helping where Sam told him to do. Kate was staring at the wreckage around them, looking half numb by everything they’d gone through that day. Natasha, meanwhile, watched him and Sharon with a slightly knowing look on his face.

They were all alive. Clint was safe. He’d found Bucky. Everyone was alive and safe.

Steve smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more chapter in this story, with a sequel posting soon after.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One journey comes to an end, and another begins.

He woke up in what he realized was an airplane.

The faded sound of jet engines was the first clue, and he groaned softly, rolling over where he was. He dimly realized next that he was not in his combat fatigues, instead now clad in a t-shirt and pants made of some of the softest material that Bucky ever felt. What he wore as the Soldier was meant more for protection and maneuverability more than anything else.

It wasn’t like any airplane that he’d ever been on before. He realized next that he was in an actual bed, covered by a blanket, with a pillow under his head. It was so damned odd.

Bucky’s blue eyes flickered as he examined in surroundings. He pulled at his wrist, and looked sharply down at the resistance he felt. His flesh arm was handcuffed to the bed, keeping him in place. He sighed, knowing that it was likely a careful precaution. They didn’t know if he would attack them when he woke up.

He realized next that he was not alone.

“You didn’t have to bring me with you,” Bucky said quietly. He knew exactly who was in the room. He shook his head, pulling off the handcuff and breaking it easily. It clattered to the carpeted floor, and Bucky rubbed his wrist. “I knew what I was doing.”

“What, nearly killing yourself?” Steve shook his head where he sat in a chair by the bed, reading through a file that Bucky didn’t recognize. Other than fading bruises on his face, he looked none the worse for wear. “Yeah, that much was clear.”

“I knew you could get us out,” Bucky corrected, looking back over at him. He knew it was a partial lie. He didn’t care about whether he’d survived that or not, but he trusted Steve to get him out of there when he arrived. “And you did, didn’t you?”

Steve didn’t reply to that. He set the file down, tugging a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t about to leave you to die among tons of rubble, Bucky,” he said, finally looking back at him. He looked exhausted. It was a look that Bucky dimly recognized but couldn’t place.

 “That’s what I was counting on. And you didn’t let me down, did you?”

The blond super soldier flinched softly, trying to hide it before Bucky noticed. He failed, and Bucky knew that he’d hit a soft spot, no matter how much he denied it. He swallowed heavily, looking down at the bed. His metal fingers curled against the blanket, pulling it a bit closer as he leaned his back against the headboard. He didn’t know what to do here. He didn’t know how they were supposed to move on from this.

Bucky didn’t know what to do next. He knew some things. He’d forgotten others. But there was a man in front of him who cared about him, who’d been running after him for six months, and now they were in the same room, at the same time.

“Where are we going?” Bucky asked, not looking back at Steve when he asked the question.

“We don’t know,” Steve admitted. He tugged a hand through his hair before saying, “For now, we’re just trying to get out of Russia. We’re planning on choosing a destination once we hit Los Angeles and refuel there. We’re trying to find somewhere safe to go.”

“You’ll be safer if you leave me behind somewhere.”

“Not happening.” Steve’s voice was firm, and Bucky shook his head.

“Why are you so damned determined to protect me?” Bucky demanded.

“You said you remembered enough to know that I wasn’t lying,” Steve pointed out. He took another deep breath before adding, “I’m not lying to you when I say that I care about you. You’re my best friend. And that means I care a lot about what happens to you.”

“No one else has in a long time.” And he could barely remember Steve caring for him, his friends and family caring for him. He had memories, but no emotions tied to them, and so many gaps that he didn’t feel like Bucky Barnes, not completely.

Steve’s next question took him by surprise.

“What do you want, Bucky?”

“What?” he demanded, his tone sharper than a knife. He glared suspiciously at Steve, wondering what the catch was. There was always a catch. It had to be a genuine question

“What do you want?” Steve asked, his voice softer. His face was open and genuine, lined with an honesty alien to Bucky after so long in HYDRA. “What do you want to do? You burned down HYDRA bases. You took down the places that hurt you. What do you want to do now?”

Bucky didn’t know the answer to that. He didn’t know how he was supposed to know the answer to that. What memories he had were jumbled and overlapping messes. He didn’t completely know what was true or false, what was real and what wasn’t. He knew that it would take a hell of a lot more than just hoping to get better. He needed somewhere safe to go. He needed time to sort through his head, to give his body time to rest, to recover.

As the word recover slipped into his mind, Bucky realized what, exactly, he wanted.

“I want to get better.” The words came out before he could stop them, and he took a shuddering breath when he realized he couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him what he wanted. “I want to figure out who I am. I want to remember. I want to live. I want to make sure HYDRA knows that they didn’t kill me.”

Maybe he didn’t deserve it. But he wanted it, so much more than he could say, and he would try his best to get there.

He wouldn’t be alone for it, at least.

“Okay,” Steve replied, his tone soft as he nodded. “Then we’ll do that. Alright? And I’m here to help if you want it.”

Bucky nodded slowly. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. That was enough.

“You don’t have to come with me,” he said. “If you drop me off somewhere, I can try and figure it out on my own.”

“That’s your choice,” Steve said. He kept his face carefully open, but Bucky could see the hints of pain on it, the fact that he was terrified that he might let Bucky go and lose his best friend again. “If you want to do this alone, you can. But you don’t have to.”

“I haven’t been alone for a long time. Handlers are always around.” Though if he never saw Rumlow again, he would be more than okay with it. Pierce was dead. That was enough peace for him.

“If you stay with any of us, we won’t be handlers,” Steve explained. His voice was firm, and he was sitting straighter. Bucky knew that what he was saying was important to him. His body language explained that easily enough. “You stay with any of us, it’s as equals. As friends. None of us are weapons.”

“All of us are weapons.” Bucky gave a bitter smile. “The difference between us is that you got a choice of who you’re pointed at.”

Steve didn’t respond, merely swallowing and looking away. “But none of us are going to point you at anyone,” he replied, looking back at him. “I promise you that. On my life, I promise you that.”

“I nearly took that life.” That was the truth. He’d nearly beaten Steve to death on the helicarrier, only for Steve to spend the next six months trying to find him until he succeeded out of pure determination.

“But you didn’t. And then you saved my life, at least twice.” Something crossed Steve’s face, and he didn’t speak for a few moments until he asked, “Why did you help us? When I was captured by HYDRA a few months back, why did you help us on the roof? Why did you break me out?”

He’d heard chatter on HYDRA radios he’d stolen that Captain America was captured, that the Skull’s blood had managed to pull one over on Captain America. He’d been livid, breaking the radio and tracking down the sight. He’d slaughtered HYDRA agents all over the area before finding and helping Rogers out, breaking his bonds and disappearing onto a roof to act as a sniper in the sky.

What he couldn’t say, not at that moment, was that acting as his sniper from above felt more natural than anything he’d done for a very long time. His only regret was that the Schmidt bitch was gone by the time he arrived.

“Because eventually they were going to try to do to you what they did to me,” Bucky replied, his voice soft. “And no one deserves that. That’s why I was burning bases. To keep them from hurting other people. That was… that was why you wanted to go to war. You didn’t like bullies.”

A genuine, open smile crossed Steve’s face. “Never have.”

“Punk.” The insult came out without warning, and he couldn’t figure out why it came out in the first place. Judging from the fact that it only made Steve’s smile brighten, he’d said the right thing.

“Jerk,” Steve replied, leaning his head back. “No matter what you want, if you want to do this alone or you want help… if you need me, I’ll be here.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “It’s not just memories.” He took a deep breath. “HYDRA did a lot. Physically and mentally. I have some memories, but they’re… clinical. The emotions aren’t associated with them yet. And I don’t like doctors.”

“I know one that’s probably pretty far from the doctors you knew,” Steve promised. “She might help.”

He didn’t remember any female doctors in HYDRA, so a female doctor on the outside helping him might be a very good idea. “You don’t have a life of your own to get back to?” he asked quietly, looking back over at him. “You’ve wasted a lot of time on me already.”

“It wasn’t a waste.” Steve looked back towards the door before standing up and saying, “I’ll grab something to eat, alright? I’ll be back in a few.” He slipped out of the door, looking back at him with a slight smile and a nod. He closed the door behind him, leaving Bucky alone in the bedroom.

Bucky noticed that he didn’t answer whether he had a life to get back to.

* * *

 

As it turned out, Tony Stark’s plane had both fantastic wifi and cell reception. Enough for Sam to make a phone call in midair and get a connection quite possibly stronger than the service at his own home. Then again, Tony was a billionaire who’d built a suit out of a box of scraps, of course he’d have good services on his private airplane.

“You found him?” Mia sounded genuinely thrilled. “Sam, that’s great.”

“Yeah, I still can’t believe it,” Sam admitted.

He sat down on one of the chairs in the lounge area, thankfully alone apart from a sleeping Kate across from him on a couch. Everyone else was taking time for themselves, Sharon looking through files, Steve with Bucky, and Clint and Natasha in the cockpit for the last two and a half hours. Sam wasn’t dumb enough to go and check on the reunited partners.

“So what are you going to do now?” Mia asked. A bit of hope entered her voice at her next question. “You coming back to DC?”

“Hopefully soon, but… but for now, we’ve got to figure out what we’re going to do with Bucky. We don’t know where to take him, but he needs somewhere to recover where he can be safe.” And they had no idea where that was going to be as of yet, because Steve did not want to take him back to the Tower.

Mia made a sound of sympathy. “If you need anything, let me know, okay? You’ve got a doctor on call for anything.”

And there was the lead-in for the favor Steve begged him to ask her for. “I don’t know if we’re getting to DC or not,” Sam explained. He lowered his voice before mentioning, “But we’re going to need a doctor that isn’t going to intimidate him. Steve thinks you might be good at that.”

“Sam, I’m not even five foot six. If anyone’s going to not intimidate him as a doctor, it’ll be me. I’ll put on a bunny suit if I have to. Say you need me on this and I’m there.” Mia’s voice was firm, and Sam couldn’t help but admire the fact that she was more than willing to jump into this.

“This won’t be easy,” Sam said, his voice low. His eyes flickered back to the kitchen, where Steve had gone minutes ago and was likely still in. “He’s dangerous. We can’t pretend that he isn’t. He needs help, but he’s dangerous.”

“So are a lot of things in life. Doesn’t mean that you can just stick your head in the sand and not do your job,” Mia explained. “And my job is to help people when I can. And if I can help him, I will.”

Sam swallowed slightly, smiling as he leaned his head back. “You know, that’s kinda attractive.”

“What, the stubbornly insisting I can help or the bunny suit?”

That drew a genuine snort of laughter from him. “The first one. Bunny suit isn’t on the list of kinks.”

“Ooh, there’s a list?” Despite the tease to her voice, Mia sounded almost delighted.

Sam snorted, feeling so much lighter than he had in years from this simple conversation. “I’ll keep you updated on when and where we’ll land. I’ll see you then, Mia.”

“See you soon, Sam.”

He hung up the phone, staring down at it for a few moments before leaning back with a quiet smile. Sure, things were just going to get harder from here. Helping Bucky, even if he wanted that help, was not going to be easy. But Sam wasn’t about to walk away. Steve was his friend. Hell, maybe someday, Bucky was going to be his friend. The rest they would figure out along the way.

They’d found Bucky. That might have been the easy part.

Helping him recover would be far more difficult.

* * *

 

“How is he?”

Steve flinched when he heard her voice. The flinch wasn’t for her, per say, but from the fact that there was every chance someone was going to force him to confront the maelstrom threatening to drown him where he stood. He wasn’t ready for that, no matter how much he knew that he needed to confront it.

“He’s… he’s better than I thought he might be,” Steve admitted. He scrubbed his hand across his face, setting the plates of food he was making aside to wash his face in the sink. “He wants to know about what happened. He wants to try and move on.”

Sharon nodded slowly, watching him carefully. “That might be the best you can hope for,” she said gently. “He wants to try. That’s a lot more than some people are willing to do.”

Steve scoffed softly. “Yeah, I know,” he replied. “I just don’t know where we’re going to do it. The wrong people find him, he’ll be used as a scapegoat. The US government is desperate to prosecute someone for what happened with HYDRA, and Stern isn’t enough for them.”

She sighed, moving to lean against the counter. “Maybe it isn’t, but Barnes isn’t their concern,” she said. “He’s the longest serving prisoner of war. The longest prisoner of war in American history served nine years in Vietnam.” Sharon raised an eyebrow back over at him. “We all know he wasn’t there willingly.”

“I don’t think some other people will make that distinction,” he admitted. Steve looked back over at her. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to keep going. I don’t know, Sharon. I don’t know how to help him now that he’s actually here.”

“You don’t have to figure it out right now,” Sharon pointed out. “It’ll take some time. And we’ve got some more time before we hit LA. You said he wants help? He wants to remember his past?” Steve nodded. “Then we figure out a safe place for him to do that.”

“Easier said than done,” Steve pointed out.

“Among us, we have a former Manhattan socialite, two of the best assassins in the world, a former pararescue, two super soldiers, and a former SHIELD agent. Among all of us, we can come up with a safe place to help Barnes,” Sharon listed, raising an eyebrow over at him.

Steve snorted slightly. “You’ve got an answer to everything, don’t you?” he wondered. There was no bite to his voice, only tease of amusement.

“We can’t ask you to come up with the solution all the time,” she pointed out, shrugging easily as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “And I happen to be very good at figuring answers to problems.”

Steve nodded, cutting up some of the meat from the refrigerator and making some more sandwiches. It was a relief to do something with his hands, no matter how minor it might be. It was a relief to get his thoughts away from the fact that everything he’d worked for six months to get was over. Bucky was safe. It was going to be a long haul to help him recover.

“I know that you’re gonna accept the Stark job,” he pointed out. “I don’t want to keep you from that. I’ve disrupted enough lives because of this.”

Sharon nodded. “I haven’t accepted it yet. And he won’t care if I take the job and just help out around here for a while. There’s a ton of assets around DC.” She looked back at him and added, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Never,” Steve replied, voice firm as he looked back over at her.

She frowned back at him. “What’s going through your head, Rogers?” she asked quietly.

He knew that he couldn’t get away with saying he was fine. Steve wasn’t fine. He was far from fine. He’d spent the last six months on the hunt, ignoring his trauma and ignoring his grief – towards Bucky, towards Peggy, towards everything, even the life he’d thought he was building up in DC but lost as a casualty to HYDRA. He had ignored his grief for so long, and he realized that he was about to lose whatever hold he had on it.

Steve took another deep breath. “I think a part of me thought this was the hard part,” he admitted. He turned back to look at her, feeling an unfamiliar heat in his eyes as he said, his voice trailing on, “That I would find Bucky and everything would go back to normal. It’s not that easy. He has so much to work through.”

“Bucky doesn’t have to redeem himself,” Sharon replied, sighing. “He has to find himself again.”

Steve nodded. “And I’m so goddamned selfish for hating the fact that this won’t be easy. For hating the fact that this is going to be long and hard. He doesn’t deserve this, Sharon. He didn’t deserve any of this and if I had managed to grab his fucking hand on that train…”

Everything would have changed. Bucky would have lived. Maybe he would have married Peggy and they would have won the war and gone back home. Maybe he would have found a way to land the plane without crashing it into the ice. Maybe it was all his fault. That part he knew was true.

He had no proof that things would have been better. But in his heart, that was what he believed, and he blamed himself completely for the harm Bucky suffered at the hands of HYDRA.

“And…” Steve took a deep breath. “Peggy told me to move on. To find a life. And I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how. I had one that was building up and then… then I lost it all. And now I’m just here and saving Bucky from HYDRA was all I had left, and…”

His hands were shaking, and he knew that he wasn’t making much sense. But the look on Sharon’s face didn’t matter. To his intense relief, he saw absolutely no judgement on her face, merely an understanding.

He realized then that he wasn’t the only one who understood what it felt like to lose everything after SHIELD’s fall.

“C’mere,” Sharon hummed, sighing as she moved over to him. She wrapped her arms around him, sighing as she pat his back. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve stiffened when he felt her arms around him, shaking his head. He didn’t know how to react, to her arms around him, to the lump in his throat that threatened to suffocate him, to the heat in his eyes that he hated to feel…

And then he broke.

Ever since the helicarrier, ever since getting out of the hospital, ever since finding out Bucky was the Winter Soldier, Steve held every bit of emotion inside. He didn’t acknowledge any of the pain he was going through. He didn’t let himself admit that he needed help, or even just a damned hug. He didn’t admit that he was exhausted and scared and tired and so close to breaking down.

He couldn’t hold it back now.

Steve’s arms curled against Sharon, and he took a shuddering breath, breathing his face in her shoulder. He was almost embarrassed by it, the fact that he couldn’t hold it in anymore, but Sharon’s quiet hums and the gentle touches to his back were grounding. He hadn’t broken down and cried since Bucky’s fall.

 “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” she whispered. “Let some of us be strong for a while, alright? Let us worry about him too.”

For the longest time, Steve held onto her, his face in her shoulder and tears staining her shirt. His sobs were quietly, thankfully. He did not want anyone else to know that he was breaking down, that he might be weak, no matter how much they might not care that he was not strong all of the time.

After a while, Steve let go of her, wiping his face. He didn’t say a word, merely looking back down at her and shooting her a look he prayed said everything he couldn’t. Sharon smiled weakly and nodded. She squeezed his hand and left him alone in the kitchen, alone to wipe away his tears and pretend that this breakdown never happened.

They wouldn’t talk about that breakdown for a long while to come.

* * *

 

After landing in Los Angeles and refueling at a Stark-owned private airport, one question remained.

“Where the hell do we go?” Kate asked, frowning as she sat on the floor in the lounge area of the plane.

“The Tower?” Sam suggested, frowning as he looked from Natasha to Steve. “I mean, there’s enough room in there for all of us. At least I hope Stark would let us all stay, and Barton’s got the apartment there.”

Steve shook his head. “No.” There was something in his voice, an almost tone of panic, which disappeared as he quickly added, “I don’t want Tony involved in this. Not when he’s got enough on his plate with the Avengers and a newborn baby.”

“And HYDRA knows where Clint’s apartment is,” Kate pointed out. “They kinda trashed it looking for me.”

The fact that Bucky might not be safe around a child was left unsaid. While Tony continued to rebuild a house in Malibu, Pepper and their newborn daughter Morgan would be in the Tower until it was done, which wasn’t until December at the absolute earliest. And Steve knew that while Bucky might have a handle on himself, he wouldn’t trust himself around children. Not yet. He didn’t want to risk it, and he didn’t want to expose Bucky to more people than others.

“Hate to say it, but if we want to get the Avengers as a legit organization? We can’t do it with Barnes there. There’s too many shadows around him, at least for now. Especially with how fresh the Triskelion is at the moment,” Sharon pointed out, though she clearly hated herself for doing it.

“And the Tower is going to be watched,” Natasha added. “By the government, by the press… Bucky wouldn’t be able to hide there.”

Publicity was the last thing they needed Bucky to deal with. He needed time and space, somewhere private for him to work through everything he’d been through. They needed somewhere safe for Bucky to be able to rest and recover. There had to be somewhere that one of them knew.

“If we go to DC, Mia can get there. We need a doctor to look at him, and she might be the only one we know that we can trust. Bringing in more people to this would not be a good idea,” Sam pointed out. He knew that Steve understood from the brief look he shot him.

“None of your safe houses would be big enough?” Steve asked as he looked between Sharon and Natasha.

Sharon shook her head. “I have a few family houses, but none of them would be big enough or isolated enough for all of us. And I don’t have any guarantee a family member wouldn’t show up. Uncle Michael in particular could show up randomly at any time.”

“My safe houses barely have enough room for me and Clint,” Natasha confirmed. “And every single one of them is out of the United States.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “I have a place. We’ll need to land outside of DC, but… but it’s a place.”

“Where?” Steve asked, frowning over at her. “You’re hiding something.”

Wasn’t she always? Natasha shook her head. “Not what you think. You remember Melinda? She’s working with remnants of SHIELD. If I can convince them there… maybe we can all stay.”

“There’s a lot of SHIELD remnants, Nat, how do we know we can trust this?” Steve asked. He’d heard enough of the bits of drama, of the in-fighting.

“Because I trust the people in charge.” She couldn’t go into more. Not until Clint knew the truth. He deserved to hear it first.

Steve shook his head. After what happened with SHIELD, he was not eager to go back anywhere near the remnants of the organization. He’d heard rumors of different factions of SHIELD, all convinced they were the only ones carrying on the legacy that might not need to survive. His misgivings must have been clear on his face from the look Natasha gave him.

“We don’t have many options, Steve,” she pointed out.

“I know.” Steve leaned his head back before saying, “If we say we want to leave, we get to leave. End of story. He’s not a prisoner.”

“We can leverage it,” Sharon pointed out quietly. She sighed as Steve met her eyes. “Leverage it so that if Barnes is safe there, some of us will do missions in exchange. I’d be willing to do a few.”

“Me too,” Kate said simply. When several of the others looked at her in surprise, she shrugged. “I’ve been through all of this so far, I’m not about to back out now.”

Steve nodded briefly before repeating his eyes locked onto Natasha, “He’s not a prisoner. He’s someone who needs to recover.”

“He’s not a prisoner and we’ll all make sure of it.” Natasha stood up from her seat, looking far more like a woman about to go to war than someone going to tell Clint where to pilot the ship. “I’ll get Clint to put in the coordinates. I’m going to need to talk to him about it anyway.”

“What about?” Steve asked, watching Natasha carefully, suspicion in his blue eyes. “Nat, what aren’t you telling us?”

Natasha sighed. “Clint… Clint needs to know first.”

She walked out of the room, and Steve frowned, looking back over towards the others. Everyone looked confused, and even Kate didn’t seem to know what the hell Natasha had to tell Clint before the rest of them knew. Whatever it was, whatever secret it was, it had to be a big one.

Whatever it was, Steve did not want to be Barton right now.

* * *

 

In the cockpit of the jet, Clint fiddled with some of the measurements. He missed flying, and since the pilot left the plane to them and Tony gave them complete permission to take it wherever, Clint was sorely tempted to fly to some tropical island right now, even if it wasn’t just him and Nat. Maybe Tahiti. Tahiti was a nice place.

He heard the door open, and glanced back, nodding at Natasha. “We figure out where we’re going yet?” he asked. He knew that he wanted to stay at least for a bit, to make sure everyone was okay. From there, he and Nat would figure out what to do.

Though his first priority would be to head to Iowa and get his dog back. He missed Lucky. But he knew that they needed to get Barnes somewhere safe too, and Clint wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t feel some sort of responsibility for helping Barnes to get somewhere safe. If it wasn’t for him attacking the gulag, they might not have been able to get him out.

“We have,” Natasha confirmed simply. “Small airport outside of DC, privately owned. We’ll need to be careful about it though. A car or two will be waiting for us and take us to the remnants of SHIELD.”

Clint looked sharply back at his longtime partner. “We’re going back to SHIELD?” he asked, admittedly a bit surprised. “Don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“Melinda’s working with it, so I’m more inclined to trust it than whatever faction springs out of the Hub or Sandbox,” Natasha explained. The mention of Melinda did draw a nod of understanding out of Clint. That was the first step.

Natasha closed her eyes. She looked torn, and Clint knew that something was up.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low as he reached over, tracing a line down her arm. “What’s going on?”

She opened her eyes and looked back down at him. “You’re gonna hate this. And you’re gonna hate where we’re going.”

He was silent, watching her hand move up to fiddle with her arrow necklace. Clint snorted before pointing out, “Nat, I just spent almost six months in a HYDRA-owned gulag. I can handle where we’re going.”

For a quick moment, there was almost hesitation on Natasha’s face. “It’s not where we’re going… but who to.” Clint shot her a confused look, raising an eyebrow as he waited for a further explanation.

And with one name, one simple sentence, Natasha proceeded to shatter Clint’s world for whatever time it might have been steady again.

“Coulson’s alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Team Cap will return in **All That I've Got** , joined by Team Coulson. Posting will commence in the next several days.


End file.
